Service
by Swinging Cloud
Summary: "When she receives her draft letter in the mail, Brittany Pierce thinks her life can't get worse- until she meets Drill Commander Lopez." EXTRA-smutty fill for the GKM. Brittana. AU. G!p/Girl Wang. Short multi-chap for the FINAL SUMOSMU! D:
1. Draft

**Summary:** "When she receives her draft letter in the mail, Brittany Pierce thinks her life can't get worse- until she meets Drill Commander Lopez." EXTRA-smutty fill for the GKM. Brittana. AU. G!p. FINAL SUMOSMU! D:

**Warning:** This story involves Brittany having, for whatever reason that makes sense in your sweet little brain, an average-sized penis. Which means there will be a lot of sex with it. If you don't like dicks, well, might I point you over to the entire rest of the Summer of Smut? ;)

**A/N:** YOU ASKED FOR IT. IT'S HERE. (Did anyone actually _ask_ for it?) This will be the one and only Girl Wang story I ever write, so it will be a _small_ multi-chapter fic while I get all of my awful autoandrophilia feels out. Because apparently, Girl Wang is a thing, so. Yeah. Here! There isn't sex in this first part, because I'm doing this weird thing called plot (GASP!) but don't worry, the next chapter will fulfill your wildest Girl Wang dreams. Or something. I didn't make the prompt, okay? I'm only filling it. (Waaanky! ;)

The setting of this story can be one of two things- you can imagine it taking place on some weird retro-futuristic world, or, if that's not for you, you can imagine it's sometime in the far future after like, World War 5 when Pangea consumes all the continents or whatever, idk. I don't go into too much detail about that. That's where _your_ imagination comes in. CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE!

Also, since the setting is entirely fictional, all of the military shit is not 100% based in reality, either. I did do a lot of research to give it _some_ realism, but if it was perfect then really the prompt I am filling would never even be possible in the first place. So suspend your disbelief. This ain't the US military. And- being in the military is not the point of the story. Brittana is. And dirty sex. If you want super-detailed, accurate military fic, go read **I Need A Medic** or something.

Thanks to Lighthouse (**NegativeSpaces**) for _absolutely nothing_. I asked her to help me come up with titles- you should have _read_ some of her useless suggestions. Useless, I say! So if the title of this story is lame? Well, it's her fault, because she didn't pick a better one. Still love her, though, don't we?

Anyways. Happy wanking!

* * *

You never thought you'd ever be drafted.

Sure- you'd registered for selective service like Big Brother required, but that was years ago, when you'd first come of age, and you'd long since forgotten about it. You had other things to worry about- dance, your job assignment, and trying to meet a girl who'd want what you had to offer. (It's not like you didn't like _boys_, but there weren't exactly a whole lot of them that were open to your unique body- you'd dated a nice boy named Kurt once, but it had quickly dissolved when you realized he was far too needy and clingy. It's not like your _situation_ is uncommon; in fact, a good percentage of the population is just like you. But it takes an uncommon type of girl to be totally okay with it, and so far, you'd only found- and dated, and fucked- a handful of them.) So why would you worry about being drafted? It's not like it was going to happen anytime soon.

But then the War happened, and you'd never hated equal rights more. Equality meant that women were just as capable as men on the battlefield, and with the world at war- and your country right in the middle of it, in particular- the draft suddenly became a reality you thought you'd never have to face.

And as you'd opened that letter on Friday that called you to arms, demanding your compliance the following Monday, you quickly realized, with a sinking feeling in your stomach, that it had become your personal reality. You'd been drafted. And there was nothing, _nothing_ you could do about it. You could run away- but where would you go? You'd never left your small town. Finding a job would be impossible without the right transfers and approvals, and your name was officially on Big Brother's list. It was as bad as being a wanted criminal.

You had no escape.

Feeling sick, you'd trudged back up the steps to your parents' house, clutching the crisp, textured paper printed with a fancy, official-looking letterhead. Your parents owned a huge plantation-style house out in the country, complete with newly-refurbished wrap-around deck, painted sky blue. The house itself was eggshell white, and the front porch had a porch swing. You'd looked at the house and felt bile rising in your throat- you'd always thought you'd live there forever, and, being an only child, inherit the house, grow old and die there- not in some foreign land fighting a battle you didn't believe in. Not like that. You'd thought you'd stay in this town all your life, and you were fine with it. You'd never wanted anything more.

But the paper in your hand reminded you to _do your patriotic duty_- there's just one problem the government must not have known about when they picked your name:

You're a pacifist.

* * *

Your girlfriend, Sugar, didn't take it so well when you told her you were leaving.

"You're breaking up with me?" you'd said in shocked disbelief. You thought she'd take it bad, but not _that_ bad. You wonder if maybe giving her flowers might've helped soften the blow. What were her favorites again? Petunias? No, those were your Great Aunt Mildred's. Maybe-

"Sorry," Sugar had said, sounding almost bored, and her disinterested tone completely surprised you. "I just don't want to deal with the distance. I need someone who's _here_. And besides, there's like a ton of statistics that prove that military relationships don't work out, anyways. I'm actually doing you a favor, Britt. Sayonara."

You'd stood, stunned, as she'd left abruptly, without even a hug or a kiss good bye. Granted, you'd only been dating her for a few months, and hadn't even had sex with her yet- she'd been giving you the runaround, and only committed to a few handjobs- but her casual severance of your relationship still hurt. And you wondered if you'd ever get the sweatshirt you'd loaned her last month back.

You're kind of glad you didn't buy those flowers.

Your parents took it a lot better, but there wasn't a whole lot they could say to comfort you.

"We are so sorry, honey," Your mother had told you, stroking fingers through your hair as you sat on the couch and let her cradle you against her. You liked being comforted by your mom- she smells like lavender, which is a whole lot better than your Great Aunt Mildred, who smelled like moth balls-

"Really, Tanny, we are," Your dad had said, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "If there's anything we can do, just tell us."

"And we'll write to you every day," your mother added sweetly, petting your bangs back from your face and kissing your forehead. You smelled lavender. You tried to smile.

You appreciated them trying, but it didn't exactly reassure you. They had accepted your leaving easier than you had, which made you feel even more helpless.

You were going off to war.

* * *

"GET- THE FUCK- _OFF_ THAT BUS- _NOW_!"

You snap out of your memories and scramble, along with the other girls seated around you, to unload from the bus as quickly as possible. You hadn't been on a bus since summer cheer camp twelve years ago, and the musty, brown, cracked leather seats beneath you had lulled you into a nostalgic calm.

"FASTER, YOU LITTLE MAGGOTS!"

Which didn't last long. You're really regretting being so in shape from dancing for years- you'd unfortunately passed all your pre-qualifying physicals, and despite your extra appendage, you'd been assigned to the girls' training camp after a minor two-day delay at the sterilization office during Reception. The doctor there had assured you the procedure was one-hundred percent reversible, but while you were property of the USN military, you had to follow their sterilization rules. You'd told him that you'd been drinking Mountain Dew all your life, but you don't think he got the joke. Then, after a quick thirty-minute procedure, you were a little sore and also feeling a little emasculated. Is this what Lord Tubbington felt like when you'd had him neutered?

Once you'd been cleared, you'd been jostled along to various stations. You'd filled out your paperwork which included who you wanted your dead body sent to (your parents) and received your uniforms and boots, and then, packed in like little sardines with the other girls on the old bus, you'd arrived at the camp where'd you'd be doing your basic training. The bus hadn't even come to a complete stop when a woman's voice began screaming at you through a megaphone.

"_PICK YOUR BAG UP_ AND _CARRY_ IT! _GET THE HELL OFF THE BUS!"_

You try to a catch a glimpse of the woman screaming at you, but all you manage to see is short blonde hair as you snatch up your tightly-packed, dark blue, military-issued bag and lift it as instructed, running in a line behind the girls ahead of you while the drill instructors shout abuse at you.

"THAT'S PATHETIC, ROSE! YOU'RE _PATHETIC_! DID THEY TEACH YOU THAT IN FINISHING SCHOOL, YOU UGLY SHIT-TWIG?"

"CHING-CHANG, MAYBE IF YOU WEREN'T ASIAN YOU COULD SEE WHERE THE HELL YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE GOING- GET BACK IN LINE, HARLOT!"

Your bag isn't all that heavy, really, but the girl beside you seems to be struggling with it. She's shorter than you, younger-looking, but pretty, and you feel bad- her blue bag looks almost bigger than her. You're about to offer her a tip on how to hold it more securely when another woman screams in your direction.

"WILDE, GET- YOUR FUCKING- _BAG_ UP- THIS AIN'T A PAGEANT. _HOLD IT UP_!"

The blonde girl- Wilde, you suppose- shoots you a dirty look, and you're taken aback by her sudden ferocity towards you, especially since you did absolutely nothing to deserve it. You're so taken aback, however, that you stumble a little as you're moving, and that draws the attention of the drill instructors. Two of them swoop down on you like vultures.

"PIERCE! YOU GOT A PROBLEM, OR ARE YOU TOO STUPID TO WALK PROPERLY?!"

"THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING, PIERCE?! FUCKING _MOVE_!"

The insults burn through you, and you feel your ears turning pink. You're slightly angry at Wilde for distracting you. You've been out of place your whole life, and if you _had_ to be _here,_ you were hoping to blend in- you don't want to make any waves or get noticed. You just want to get through your training quietly, serve your time, hopefully survive, and go home. In fact, you wouldn't mind skipping straight to the _go home_ part-

"HEY, IDIOT- I'M _TALKING_ TO YOU. _DO YOU UNDERSTAND_ ME?"

You raise your eyes slightly, and catch just a glimpse of curly brown hair and a very large frame, before you're being yelled at again.

"WHO ARE YOU LOOKING AT, PIG? YOU LOOK SOMEWHERE ELSE, YOU HEAR ME?"

You're about to respond, when a third voice, beautiful and smoky despite its sharpness, cuts through you, making you shiver involuntarily at its coldness.

"What the _fuck_ is going on here?"

She's not screaming, but the commanding, frigid tone in her voice is enough to put more fear in you than everyone who's yelled at you so far.

"DO YOU SEE WHAT YOU'VE DONE?" the tall, older blonde woman with the megaphone shrieks at you, directly in your face. "YOU'VE PISSED OFF THE COMMANDER, STUPID."

"STUPID," the other woman echoes, and you swallow, your throat feeling tight, because you're completely unsure how you could've done such a thing, when really, you haven't actually _done_ anything. You start to wonder if you _did_ do something, because the older blonde woman is glaring at you over her megaphone, and the curly-haired bull of a woman- actually, she looks more like a bison, if you had to choose- is, too, and now there's a third angry person that you're unaware of, and you're also pretty sure that everyone in the company- it _is_ called a company, right? They told you that at Reception, but you really hope you remembered right- is staring at you, and you can feel the tips of your ears burning, and-

A sneer from your left makes you shiver again, and then that cold voice is taunting, "What, are you gonna cry? _Are you gonna cry_?"

You shake your head, clenching your jaw and averting your eyes to the rough canvas bag in your arms. You're startled when strong, tan fingers grip your jaw tightly and yank your head up, and your eyes meet hers for the first time.

Chocolate. That's all you can think of. Not the cheap kind, like Hershey's bars or whatever, but that good, expensive chocolate they have boutiques for that you could never even afford but still longingly looked at through the shop window in your town.

Or maybe her eyes are more like coffee beans. The good roasted kind shipped in from the feral colonies or wherever, that smell amazing- though you're sure her eyes probably don't smell.

Or maybe chocolate coffee, like coffee with chocolate _in_ it-

"What the _fuck_ are you looking at, Stupid?" The Commander barks, and you're instantly reminded that you aren't home, and definitely not anywhere near those ancient, familiar shops. Fingers tighten almost painfully on your jaw and you wince. "Did you even hear anything that I said?"

You try to shake your head before you remember that you can't, because she's gripping your face so tightly. So you say, "No," instead, and drop your gaze.

"Did I tell you to look away?" the Commander demands, and obediently, you lift your eyes back up. Your eyes meet again, and this time, you feel a hard throb of heat shoot straight to your groin, and your dick twitches in you tight, constricting shorts.

Fuck.

You bite your lip and swallow, hoping against hope that whatever your Commander is going to do is over with quickly, because being so close to her is affecting you in adverse ways you've never felt before, and if she keeps looking at you as intensely as she is, even your painful compression shorts aren't going to be able to hide your secret-

Sneering, the Commander releases your chin, and you snap to attention as she turns away to address the rest of your small company. "Listen up, Ladies," she says harshly, her strong voice carrying over the fearful silence. "I know many of you don't want to be here- but I'm going to tell you right now- _get the fuck over it_. You're not leaving. And if you don't make it, then you'll die on the battlefield. Simple as that. I'm not playing with you and I don't fuck around. You've all probably heard a lot of things about me- that I'm a bitch, that I'm cruel, that I will humiliate you and hurt you. All of those things are true. Do _not_ cross me. You _will_ be sorry. Now get the _fuck_ out of my sight."

There's a slight, half-second pause before the blonde-haired older lady screams, "YOU HEARD COMMANDER LOPEZ! ONTO THE FIELD! _NOW_!"

You clutch your bag tighter to your chest and pick up your pace. Commander Lopez shoots you another glare, and you feel a tingle of both fear and arousal ripple through your body. You've already made two enemies within minutes of arriving. And somehow, you know that you're _in for it_- that your punishment hasn't even _begun_.

As you make your way back to your place in line, you wonder just what the hell you did to deserve this.

* * *

**So, yeah, Britt's probably not going to have a good time at Basic… or is she? I guess you'll have to keep reading, idk. **

**All of the chapters of this story, however many there will be, are going to be short, and from here on, _smutty._ **

**Hang tight, Girl Wang is on the way! XD**

**Review if you feel like it. But it not, then don't. It's all gravy. **

**AND NOW A WORD FROM ~OFFICER SAFETY:**

**Vasectomies are a good, safe option for sterilization- if you are a man, or have a Girl Wang. The procedure also has a reversal success rate of anywhere between 70-99 percent, depending on how long it's been since you had the original procedure. :) **

**However, vasectomies do not stop the transmission of STDs, so if your partner is a man, or someone with a Girl Wang, then consider the use of condoms, anyways. Plus, what if that shitsack is lying to you or whatever, and then you get pregnant and have to drag the fucker on Maury to tell him he's the baby daddy?**

**Exactly.**

**The good news is, though, unless you are an old hag, or dating a man (or person with a Girl Wang) that is significantly older than you, the likeliness of you having to deal with someone who's had the procedure is probably extremely rare. **

**But still use condoms. Seriously.**

**STAY SAFE AND PLAY SAFE! :D**

**See you soon, pals!**


	2. Orders

**A/N:** Hello, lovely readers. Here's chapter two! :) Thanks, everyone, for the reviews and follows! I'm glad this story has piqued your interest, and I hope you continue to enjoy it.

Now I will say- I understand Commander Lopez is harsh. But. I promise- she has her reasons, which you will eventually find out. And as always, Brittana is endgame. I have the whole story plotted out, so hopefully you'll stick with it. :)

I'd like to give credit to my boo, **crammit**, who got me using the term _Girl Wang_. She is really special (ed.) :')

Also, for those curious, stay tuned after the feature, for an explantion of the ranks!

~enjoy

* * *

It's hours later, and you're completely exhausted as you drag yourself and your bag to your assigned barracks. Commander Lopez had shown no mercy, putting everyone through rigorous PT that lasted until the sun went down. Somehow, it's not what you expected your first day to be like. You'd excelled at the physical training, easily doing more counts than any of the other girls- but even that, Commander Lopez had managed to turn into something bad; she demeaned and belittled the others, making them resent you by keeping the entire company working until they did as many as you. It made you sorry you ever tried to redeem yourself in her eyes.

You're starving, but you can't eat until you sort out where you're going to be sleeping. As you enter the barracks, carrying your bag, which seems significantly heavier than before due to your exhaustion, you search around for an empty bunk, and choose the one farthest from the door. You place your bag down on the bottom bunk, claiming it, but a hard shove makes you lose your balance and you teeter from the unexpected blow.

You turn to see the blonde girl from earlier- Wilde- snatching your canvas bag from the bed and chucking it to the floor. The bag opens slightly and your toothbrush and soap fall out, skittering across the linoleum. You look up and meet harsh hazel eyes that are more green than brown, and a hateful expression that burns into you. Confused, you open your mouth, but the enraged girl cuts you off, speaking through gritted teeth.

"Get your stuff off my bed, idiot!"

You could point out that _your_ stuff was there, first; you could point out that she had, and still has, _no claim_ on the bunk, and demand she remove her stuff. But the hard look in her eyes makes you back down. It's just a bed. It's not worth fighting over. And you don't want to cause any more trouble on your first day. So, reluctantly, you crouch to gather your spilled belongings, pick up your bag, and find a bed on the opposite side of the room.

You haven't even opened your bag to start unpacking your stuff when the door to the barracks flies open, and Commander Lopez, flanked by a young blonde woman you haven't seen before, charge into the room.

"What's taking so long?" Commander Lopez demands in her strong voice; it carries across the room, bouncing off the bright white ceilings and floors. Everyone in the room, including you, snap to attention, and you finally get a decent look at her. The first time you'd seen her, she'd been in your face, too close to really _see_ any distinguishing features. And the last few hours you'd spent staring at her shiny, black boots with your nose to the ground as she'd towered over you, taunting. But now, you trace your eyes over her frame and feel the familiar tingle low in your groin that makes you panic. Your commander is _gorgeous_. She's got tan, caramel-colored skin, dark black hair that's pulled back in a tight, professional bun, and her uniform is pressed and clean, despite the fact that she'd been outside sweating with your company for the day. Her lips are full and you remember the severe jolt of arousal you'd experienced just from her intense stare. The cut of her uniform isn't flattering to her figure, but you'd guess based on her rank that she's probably _ripped_. The thought of her body sends another throb to your dick, and you bite your lip hard, hoping the pain will help stifle some of your mounting arousal.

You suddenly realize with slight horror that the other girls are all moving at a rapid pace while the new blonde woman walks down the aisles, pausing every so often to criticize and shout- you can hear her sharp voice tearing someone apart. The Commander follows, doing the same, and you feel more panic overtaking you, killing your arousal. _Shit_. What had she said while you were daydreaming?

You look across the aisle and see a thin, brown-haired girl hastily putting her possessions away in her locker. A quick scan shows that everyone's scrambling to put their own things away. You turn to your own bag and quickly dump it out, emptying it onto the bottom bed of the bunk you'd chosen. You begin to snatch up your underwear first, shoving it into the designated space in your locker, but you don't get halfway through your stuff before the blonde woman is upon you, yelling.

"_Stop right there_." You freeze, your arms in midair, clutching your sleep shorts, which the blonde woman snatches out of your hand and throws violently onto the bed. "Someone obviously doesn't know how to _listen_."

Wondering how the woman knows you weren't listening- is she psychic?- you feel your own heartbeat pounding in your chest, hear your blood rushing in your ears. Around you, everyone else is rushing to put their belongings away, and you're still uncertain how to respond. Should you confess that you weren't listening? Should you play dumb? Should-

"I told you _not_ to dump your bag out; _Do not dump your bag out._ Now- put everything back in it and start over."

Feeling slightly angry, you start to re-pack your large canvas bag, and the blonde woman steps around you, reaching into your locker. She grabs the stuff you had already put away and tosses it haphazardly on the bed. "I said _everything_."

You remain silent, focusing on your work, but then her hand comes down sharply, swatting the shirt you'd been folding out of your hands, and you look up, surprised.

"Did you hear me?" she demands.

You blink. You'd heard. Weren't you doing what she asked? You nod slowly.

"Are you mute?" she hisses, and you're about to answer to show her, no, you're not mute, when Commander Lopez storms over.

"Problems, Lieutenant?" she snaps. Then, her eyes harden with realization (you don't know whether to feel happy that she recognized you, or horrified that _she recognized you_) and she shakes her head. "You, again." Her eyes narrow further, and you wonder if it hurts to glare at someone as hard as she's glaring at you. You think about asking her, but ultimately decide that it's not a good idea. She might get angry, and even though you just noticed that you're taller than her, you don't really want to piss her off, or-

"-listening?!"

Shit. _Again_. You really need to stop getting lost in your thoughts. You still don't know how to respond, and then you're crying out in surprise and pain as you slam into the locker behind you, your back shoved up against the metal door. Commander Lopez has her forearm across your chest and her face right in front of yours, and your sprawled position puts you at the same height. The scent of her skin overwhelms you, and you're suddenly overcome with the desire to kiss her full lips, despite the fact that they're pulling up into a snarl. A snarl directed at _you_.

"You're really young," you blurt out suddenly, and her eyes widen for a second before they return to glaring hard at you. She presses into you harder and the locker handle digs into your back. You wince.

"Do you think you're _funny_, Stupid?" she growls in a low, deadly voice. Again, that tingle of fear. Again, that jolt of arousal. You don't know what's wrong with you. Your ears are burning pink again. And you also want to inform her that you have a name, and it's not _Stupid_. Somehow, you don't think she cares, though.

You find your voice, though it wavers. "No, Commander."

"You want to know what I think?" she asks, and you're unsure if you're supposed to answer. When she continues without prompting, you're glad you chose the right response. "You're _lazy_. I don't know what planet you _think_ you live on, since you've got your head so far up your own ass- so let me give you some advice: _shit it out_. Or you won't last a _second_ out on that field. Am I making myself clear?"

You nod, and she removes her arm from your chest. You draw in a deep, slow breath and let it out as she turns and makes her way to the center of the room, her sturdy boots tapping on the linoleum.

"Okay, Ladies- since your teammate _Stupid_ over here decided she doesn't like to play by the rules, we are _all_ going to _start over_," Commander Lopez says coldly. A collective low groan resonates across the barracks, and you drop your head, your face heating up with embarrassment. Great. As if everyone didn't hate you before.

"Pack all of your shit back up," the blonde woman- the Lieutenant- snaps. "And _this_ time," she shoots a heated glare at you, "_everyone_ does as they're told."

"And faster," the Commander adds.

You focus on your work, and at the Lieutenant's sharp whistle, you unpack your canvas bag the right way, quickly. You finish in plenty of time, feeling rather pleased with yourself, and when the Lieutenant calls for attention, you snap into perfect position.

After about a minute, she dismisses you to the mess for dinner, but as you make your way to the door, a firm hand on your shoulder pushes you back.

"Not you," Commander Lopez sneers, and you look shocked. Haven't you been humiliated enough for one day? "I still don't think you've learned your lesson," she says, and you wrinkle your brow in confusion- what lesson? You thought you were just supposed to follow orders. It's not your fault you missed what the Lieutenant was saying- okay, actually, it was; if you'd been paying better attention, you might have heard the whole instructions, and then you wouldn't have not followed them, because the last thing you want to do is cause any trouble and-

The feel of the Commander's finger jabbing into your shoulder snaps you out of your thoughts, and you curse yourself again as you realize she was talking. Shit! You really need to stop drifting away- maybe the Commander is right about having your head up your-

"-_still_ not listening!" The Commander snaps angrily, punctuating her words with another jab of her finger. You're about to apologize, but the Commander's gaze makes your words die in your throat. "On the ground. _Now_. Front leaning rest."

You exhale sharply through you nose, feeling frustrated as you drop into push-up position. Your arms and chest scream in protest; you're already exhausted from your PT earlier, but you reluctantly hover yourself above the floor, making sure to keep your back straight.

"Down."

You lower yourself. You wait. Your muscles shake.

"How's the floor look, Stupid?" the Commander asks, in the sweetest voice you've heard her use yet.

Her patronizing tone makes your blood begin to boil, but you swallow your anger. "Clean, Commander."

"Clean?" she asks. "But not spotless?"

You bite your lip. _Shit_.

"Up," she snaps, and you push yourself up, working through the exhaustion. "On your feet."

You stand at attention quickly, awaiting instruction. You try not to look at her, but she's practically in your face, her scent invading your nose. You can almost feel her body heat- or maybe you're imagining it. You fleetingly wonder if she can smell fear.

"Go get your toothbrush," she says at last, her voice cold.

Your stomach sinks. You have a really, really bad feeling.

* * *

By the time the rest of your company returns from dinner, you'd managed to detail clean one small section of the floor using your toothbrush under Commander Lopez's instruction. She'd belittled you and made you feel like an incompetent person incapable of cleaning a floor, and you'd re-scrubbed several spots more than once. You'd made the mistake of challenging her perception of clean, and in response she'd stomped her boot over the spot, grabbed you by the back of your neck and shoved your face down, inches from the floor.

"Is it still clean?" she'd asked, and at your angry confirmation that it wasn't, she'd released you, and you'd re-cleaned the area. _Again_.

When your sentence was finally over, your knees and back ached, adding to the long list of sore places on your body. And thanks to the punishment- which you're still unsure how you earned in the first place- now you _also_ don't have a toothbrush- at least, not one you can actually feel safe using. You wonder if you'll be able to buy one at the BX, but you doubt you're even allowed to go there this early on in your training- or ever. And you really don't think your Lieutenant cares about your lack of a toothbrush, nor do you think she'd listen to an appeal to allow you to buy one. You just resign to using your finger for a while until you can somehow manage to procure one- whenever that will be.

You spend your personal time listening to your stomach growl- you haven't eaten since breakfast, right before you left Reception- and trying to pen a letter home to your parents. You leave out how awful your first day has been; you don't want to worry them. Instead, you tell them about your uniforms, and how you excelled at PT. You manage to squeeze in a shower (you've never been so grateful for the remodel, since there are stalls- you'd heard horror stories) that's over before it had really begun. But at least you managed to wash the sweat off your body, and you have a feeling you're going to become an expert at dressing beneath a towel.

When they call _Lights Out_, your entire body is exhausted. You're thankful you're not assigned on guard duty this week, and you're pretty sure you're asleep before your head even hits the pillow.

You jolt awake early and wonder what time it is. Looking around, you realize you're the only one awake, so it must be before _First Call_. You're not sure why you woke up, and you spend a minute wondering before you see it- you've got a hard-on. You try and think of what might have caused it, but all you can remember from your dream is intense, chocolate-coffee eyes.

Of course.

Cursing your simultaneously horrible and awesome luck, you take a moment to decide what to do. You touch the throbbing bulge in your shorts and hiss lowly at the ache it causes, at the way the stimulation pulls at your gut. _Fuck_. Your dick doesn't seem like it's going to go down any time soon, and you can't risk any of your company seeing it. You're already a target, you're already different, and you don't want to give out any more reasons for being picked on.

You look at the tent in your shorts and sigh. You have to take care of it. But where?

Quietly, you slip out of bed and sneak to the toilet stall. It's dark, and you pause a moment to make sure no one heard you. You tug your shorts down to your knees, breathing deeply through your mouth as the cold air hits your hard, throbbing penis. Biting your lip to quell any sound you might make, you quickly wrap your fist around your warm shaft and pump slowly, up and down, feeling yourself growing, expanding slightly in your hand. You can already sense your orgasm approaching, and you pump faster, the fear of being caught and the built up tension in your body spurring you on. After a few more quick jerks, you aim for the toilet- just in case- and come all over your closed fist, the white liquid running down the back of your hand. Swallowing and releasing the breath you'd been holding, you reach for some toilet paper with your free hand and quickly wipe yourself clean. You'll use a baby wipe late. You tug your shorts back up, wash your hands, and head back to your bunk.

It's too late for you to get back to sleep, and your mind is too active, anyways, so you lie in your bed and wait for _First Call_ and realize-

You need to find somewhere else to sleep.

* * *

**Poor Britt. :(**

**Don't worry, things will get better for her in the near future!**

**Review if you want to tell me what a bitch Britt's superiors are, but if not, well, I'll catch you on the next chapter. :D**

/

~about the ranks:

_Commander_ is a rank in the US Navy, and as I pointed out, this story is not based in a real military branch. I took elements of all the branches to create something _realistic_ but not _real_. In this alternate universe/futuristic world, there is only one branch of the military- the United Sovereign of Nations Defense, and though I kept the ranks in order (Lieutenant is lower than Commander, Sergeant is lower than Lieutenant, etc.) none of the ranks come from the same branch. I got to pick the ones I liked, because that's how I muthafuckin ROLL, homie!

Usually it takes about 10 years, if you are ambitious, to achieve the rank of Commander in the Navy. However, since this story includes grandscale warfare, to the point where a draft has been reinstated, I assume that there would be huge casualties, resulting in faster promotions to fill the vacant positions, which is how Santana could be a Commander at the tender age of 27.

_Commander_ is also a term for someone who commands a company, squadron, or whatever other group of people. In the Navy/Air Force, the drill sergeant is called a _company commander_ and not a _drill sergeant_ because the rank of sergeant doesn't exist in either of those branches. (The equivalent is _petty officer_.) However, enlisted personnel usually fill those positions, and not officers (which is what the rank of _Commander_ actually is- an officer rank. _Sergeant_ is an enlisted rank.)

So which is it? And why did I choose _Commander _if it's so frickin' complicated to explain?

Well, the prompt chose Commander. Which is why I had to roll with it and make it work. But how exactly _does_ it work?

Well, that's up to you and how far you are willing to suspend your disbelief. It's time for CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE!

-If you believe that Santana went to college and graduated, became an immediate officer in the USND and reached Commander status in about another 5 years, then her rank is a _Commander_- advance to the next chapter when it posts.

-If you believe that there's no way Santana did all that shit, and she enlisted and is just a wretched person who hates her life and is just a _company commander_, then her rank is actually probably Master Sergeant (which is not a rank in the Navy) and you've pretty much fucked yourself in terms of following my rank system- advance to another story. ;D

Just remember, it's not a real military. It's a faux military based on _all_ the branches. Like I said, if you want _real_ military, **I Need a Medic** exists.

~the more you know

See you soon, pals!


	3. Joke

**A/N:** Why hello. :) Thanks to everyone who left reviews, even the critiquing ones, on the story. I appreciate your feedback, regardless of what it is. However, I do have two replies, since you guys reviewed anonymously and I'd like to answer your questions. :)

To the first welcomed guest that is still confused by my ranks- honey, you are confusing yourself unnecessarily! This isn't the US Military. Pretend it's a military on Mars, if it helps you get past the fact that, yes, Santana's actions in the United States Army would be illegal and frowned upon. They are not in the US Army, tho.

But if they were, Brittana would also probably never have sex either. Also, Brittany wouldn't even probably be allowed in the military if she had a penis. Also, girl penis, in the form it takes in fanfiction, doesn't even actually exist. So really, this entire story is a magical, made up wonderland of "NO WAY WOULD THAT EVER HAPPEN"s. Please don't take it so seriously. It's a prompt. Not a full-on story.

However, I do find it a little hilarious that you totally buy the existence of Brittany's girl wang, but the rank system is what's unbelievable. I hope you can move past it and continue to enjoy the story. :)

To my second welcomed guest who said I ruined the ending by telling you Brittana is endgame- darling, my story is clearly marked as a Brittana story, both in the story info and the summary. Also, since I'm filling a GKM prompt, the prompt itself kind of gives away that Brittana end up banging. This is clearly a smutty story. It's obviously going to happen. I didn't give away any details in what's going to happen after, but all my readers should know (I hope?) that all of my stories are always safe to read, because (spoiler alert!) Brittana will always end up together.

BUT WE SHIPPERS ALREADY KNOW THAT, RIGHT?! BRITTANA IS FOREVER, BITCHEZ!

In general- try to remember this is a **prompt fill**. I didn't make up the context of the sex; I only write it and try and have it make sense. Don't take it so seriously. When I start writing Pirates later this week, then you can go into serious mode, because that's an actual story from my own brain. LOL this story is supposed to be just for fun (even though- poor bb Britt. ;-;)

GOSH I HATE LONG AUTHOR'S NOTES.

Moving on! No smut in this chapter, but it's coming! (pun intended) Probably in the next chapter, so hang in there. The prompt for this story was a little detailed and I wanted to do it justice, which is why the build-up is taking a little longer than my usual prompts.

Also: a _pugil stick_ is a stick with two padded ends, similar to the ones used on that _American Gladiator_ show, only rifle-sized. They are used for simulated bayonet combat, although, ~fun fact, the only branch that actually still uses bayonets and the combat training is the Marines.

~the more you know

That being said, there's some slight violence in this chapter, so, use caution, but it's nothing too graphic.

Okay, well, here it is. :X

* * *

You're more tired than you can ever remember being after your first week of training. Your sleep schedule was tricky to work out, but you'd managed to evade the Fire Guard during their shift change and sneak out of the barracks- unfortunately, that meant you'd had to stay awake through the first two-hour shift, and your sleeptime was already limited without you cutting it back even more. Finding an alternative place to sleep was tricky, but thankfully, you found an old, abandoned barracks building on the grounds.

The building was in disuse because the barracks hadn't been remodeled yet, and with funding cut and redirected to the war effort, they might not _ever_ be remodeled. You know you'll definitely get in trouble if anyone discovers you're sneaking out, but the alternative is worse, in your mind. The last thing you need is anyone teasing you about having a hard-on- and especially not one for your superior.

It's been a week since you arrived, and Commander Lopez hasn't let up her private torment of you, but at least it's only _her_ that's picking on you. She made that clear one afternoon during drill. You'd been practicing field-stripping your rifle, and in your hurry you'd fumbled with one of the parts, resulting in the Commander confronting you. She'd told you what a useless piece of garbage you were, gotten in your face, and then, to punctuate, swept her arm across your workspace, sending the remanding pieces of your rifle clattering to the floor. As you'd lunged to your knees to pick them up, a few of the other girls had laughed, and Commander Lopez had rounded on them.

"Wilde- what the _hell_ are _you_ laughing at?" she'd demanded, stabbing her finger towards the girl. "You think you can do better?" Commander Lopez had turned her cold fury around the room. "Does _anyone_ think they can do better?"

The terrified girl had cowered in her seat, and no one had spoken up.

"That's what I thought," the Commander had sneered.

After that, no one laughed at you.

But it still didn't give you relief from Commander Lopez. You didn't see her all the time, but she made a habit of stopping in to check on your progress whenever she felt like torturing you. She still used you as an example at every opportunity, still pointed out all of your mistakes- but it only made you try harder to be perfect, so she wouldn't find anything to criticize. She'd made you re-make your bed for an hour once until it was perfect, and now it's perfect _every time_. She'd criticized your boots, that they weren't shined enough- and now she can always see her own sneer in them. The way you would get back at her would be to prove her wrong- that you _aren't_ worthless.

Every day, you fight to prove the Commander wrong, and every night, you sneak away to your secret sleeping place and find release with your hand. You think you must have some kind of problem, but you can't get the thought of Commander Lopez out of your mind ever since you'd dreamt of her that first night. Maybe the idea of being on top of her, of finally being _in control_ for once, is what appeals to you- or maybe it's the desire to hear what her moans sound like as they tear out of her throat while you pound into her. You're not sure, and you don't care. You just want to survive training and move on without any incidents.

But it _bothers_ you that she hates you. Why does she hate you?

Physically, you are faster, stronger, and have more endurance than anyone else in your company. You excelled at your basic first aid at the end of the first week, and your unconventional thinking helped you problem-solve a lot of scenarios given to you by your superiors. You're not stupid. You've risen to every challenge she's given you.

The only thing you can't do, however, is the most important thing you need to learn.

"Get up, Pierce- _GET UP_. What're you doing?!" Lieutenant Fabray's voice rings in your ears and you obediently attempt to follow her instructions. She at least treats _everyone_ like shit. You don't feel singled out with her. (You're kind of glad _she's_ your squad leader, and not one of the other older women who screamed at you on your first day. At least she calls you by your name.)

Gasping, you lift yourself from the dirt and climb shakily to your feet, your head still spinning. You grab up your pugil stick from where it had fallen and ready yourself for another bout. Your opponent, Rose, stands across from you, her expression, from what you can see through the opening in her helmet, smug. It makes your insides burn that she thinks you're an easy win, but it's not enough for you to want to hurt her in return.

She obviously doesn't feel the same way.

She lunges forward with a snarl, charging you, and quickly thrusts her pugil stick into your chest. The force of her jab makes you stagger back, lowering your stick to clutch at the spot, which is now aching.

"Stop, _stop_, _STOP_! Pierce- what the _fuck_ was that?!" The Lieutenant yells from the sidelines, holding her hand out to indicate your last spar with Rose.

You continue to rub your tender sternum and shrug dully. "I thought she's supposed to be my comrade. Why do I want to hurt her?"

Lieutenant Fabray narrows her eyes. "In _this_ scenario, she's your enemy."

"Well, that's confusing," you say, because it is. You've never been good at acting, and it's hard for you to pretend to hate someone enough to want to stab them, even with a simulated bayonet. It's silent for a moment, and you can tell Lieutenant Fabray is trying to figure out what to say to you in response; you enjoy the small break from getting pummeled and try to catch your breath. Your respite doesn't last very long, however, because then Commander Lopez's voice cuts through the crowd.

"Let _me_ go, Lieutenant."

The surrounding company parts to let Commander Lopez through, and as she steps forward, dressed in black BDU pants tucked into her shiny black boots, and a fitted, heather gray military-issued tee shirt, you forget what you're supposed to be doing. Her silky-looking hair is drawn up in a tight ponytail, and it's the first time you've seen it out of its usual bun.

Your mouth goes dry, and you feel that pull in your pants again. You hate that she's so beautiful, and you can't understand why you're so attracted to her when all she does is humiliate you and pick on you. Last time you checked, you weren't a masochist, so why is it whenever she walks into a room, your heart starts pounding? Why is it, whenever she looks at you- like she is now- you feel butterflies? You hate the way you feel. You wish you could will it away, but you can't even stop looking at her long enough to have a coherent thought.

You watch as she walks into the small ring to square off against you, and your stomach drops when you realize what's coming. Whispers spread like wildfire through the surrounding company; you catch the words _she's going to kill her_ and you swallow hard. Sweat trickles down your temple from the heat- and maybe from your fear- and you're covered in dirt from your earlier tumble. Even your palms are slick as you clutch your pugil stick closer to you, like a shield.

You are so _fucked_.

Commander Lopez casually reaches for your former opponent's pugil, and Rose hands it to her and scurries obediently to the sidelines, placing herself next to Wilde. The two begin conversing in a hushed whisper immediately. You can feel your heart pounding for an entirely different reason as the girls around you continue to talk lowly about your impending doom.

"Protection, Commander," Lieutenant Fabray reminds, holding a fresh helmet out to her, and your small hope that the Lieutenant might've stopped the slaughter you're about to face dies a horrible, painful death. Maybe like the one you're about to endure.

The Commander laughs at the proffered helmet. "_Please_."

Your body turns cold as you grip the stick so tight your knuckles are white. You're not a religious person but you really hope that if anyone is out there they make you at least put up a good attempt at a fight, so your last action alive isn't humiliating. Your Commander isn't wearing any gear, which makes you more hesitant to attack her; but at the same time, she's giving you an opportunity to take out a lot of your frustrations, and you can feel the beginnings of anger starting inside you, like a small flame.

_She's going to kill her._

You clutch your pugil tighter.

Commander Lopez cocks her head. "Your move, Stupid," she sneers.

Your flame burns higher. Glaring, you take a deep breath. And then you attack.

You don't get one step before she has you on your back in the dirt, with the air knocked out of you. Her smirk and the fact that she doesn't have a single hair out of place is beginning to infuriate you, and you feel your fire beginning to rage into an inferno.

You scramble to your feet and attack again, and again you miss her. Her pugil stick hits you in the side of the head, and even with the helmet, the padded blow is still sharp and jarring. It disorients you, and you blindly jab your stick out, trying to remember your bayonet training.

"Get it together, Pierce!" the Lieutenant screams at you from the sideline, and you feel a little better knowing she's at least trying to encourage you in her own way. Having someone in your corner helps a lot-

Another blow to your head, and now you're _really_ getting angry. Your fire is a full-blown fire_storm_, now, and it's scary and exhilarating all at once. You don't think you've ever been so angry. You rush forward, attempting to push your Commander back with a thrust, but she shoves back, and you stagger.

"_Stance_, Pierce!" she snarls, and you're so surprised to hear your actual name coming from her lips that you pause for just a second. She stabs the end of her stick roughly into your shoulder, and as you stagger back again, you admire her perfect form in her execution.

You swing your stick wildly in a wide arc as a counterattack and catch the Commander in the ribs. It doesn't move her a single inch. Instead, she brings her own stick down across yours and knocks it from your hands. It hits the dirt, sending up a small cloud of dust.

Now totally unarmed, which means the drill is over, you sigh heavily and move to pick up your discarded stick, but instead you get a sharp _thwack_ to your jaw. You teeter, looking bewildered, but Lopez hits you again.

"Hands _up_, Pierce! You think this is a fucking _game_?!" She punctuates with another hard hit. "_Hands up_! Protect- your fucking- _head_!" She hits you again and again, and each blow builds your anger more and more, disorients you more and more. You weakly raise your left hand to try and block Commander Lopez's attacks, but a stinging strike to your face has you stumbling back, your left eye screaming at you in pain. You can feel your tear ducts responding to the pain but you will them to stop- tears will only hurt you more-

"Focus, Pierce!" Lieutenant Fabray hollers.

"Holy shit!" one of the girls on the sidelines laments.

"Hands _UP_!" Commander Lopez yells, a mere foot away. You try, but your body feels far away from you. Your limbs feel weak. You think Commander Lopez might have cloned herself, because there's two of her. Another hard thwack splits your lip open and you feel hot blood gush down your chin.

With a disgusted snarl, Commander Lopez hits you one final time and sends you sprawling to the dirt on your stomach. It takes you a moment to figure out that you're not dead, but you kind of wish you were. You feel a hard pressure on your back and realize her boot is planted firmly between your shoulder blades. You can barely breathe; your head is pounding, your vision is swimming and you're pretty sure you're inhaling dirt and not air.

"_Bang_," the Commander seethes. At least, you _think_ she's seething. She sounds angrier than you've ever heard her. It makes your heart hurt for some reason, and your stomach is tying itself in knots. Of course, that might actually be nausea because your vision is still swirling and you're definitely dizzy.

"You're _dead_, Pierce. You hear me?" You feel her twist the heel of her boot against your back to get your attention. You wince. It takes a minute for her words to sink in. You're not dead. You're alive-

And then it clicks. This was a simulated fight. Not a real one. If it had been a real one, you would have died. The thought makes you swallow hard.

"Yes, Commander," you try to mumble, but it comes out hoarse and broken. You're still inhaling more dirt than air, and your mouth tastes bitter.

"Rose, escort your _comrade_ to the medical building," Commander Lopez snaps.

"Yes, Commander," Rose responds, her voice sounding meek but professional.

The pressure of Commander Lopez's boot leaves your back and you're relieved to be able to take a full breath of air. You hear her footsteps move away, her voice cold and deadly as she says, "I hope you all learned something important- this _isn't _a fucking _joke_."

You push yourself up shakily, ashamed and feeling like you let your Commander down, even though you despise her. The conflicting feelings only fuel your nausea as you try and inventory your injuries. Your entire body aches, your lip is still bleeding, and your left eye is swollen.

You're not laughing.

* * *

Second Lieutenant Jones is a no-nonsense woman, but a gentle doctor. She's short and sturdily-built, but not fat. You wonder if she was fat before she joined the military, but she smells like cocoa butter, and you can see the concern in her eyes as she examines your beat-up face. You decide that she's the only person you actually like so far, with maybe Lieutenant Fabray as a close second- if you absolutely _had_ to pick a second.

She smears some cold cream underneath your left eye that smells like pineapple, which is just fine with you, because you really like pineapple, so what could be wrong with that? The cream immediately soothes the dull throbbing of pain, and you can't help but sigh at the relief. The disinfectant she blots on your lip, though, stings both the cut and your nose with its pungent, strong antiseptic scent. You don't like that one as much.

Doctor Jones pushes her sure, strong fingers firmly into the large bruise on your jaw, which makes you bristle with pain. You squirm, agitated.

"It'll help the dead blood cells clear up," She claims factually. She massages the spot for another moment while you fidget, and then she grabs your chin and turns your head to inspect your face again.

"You'll definitely have a black eye for at least three days," she assesses pityingly. She turns and moves to grab a bottle of painkillers. "Your vision should be unaffected, though. Commander Lopez has- _impeccable_ aim." She chuckles a little, but you don't find it very funny.

"She hates me," you mumble, and then you freeze. You hadn't meant to say that out loud, and now you're scared that maybe you might've ruined the doctor's image of you. You worry that she might start viewing you like everyone else, if she values the Commander's opinion, and you don't want that. You hold your breath for a moment and wait for the doctor's expression to change, but she doesn't stop what she's doing, twisting the cap off the bottle of painkillers.

"She hates everyone," she says nonchalantly, with a shrug. "Take these." You accept the small pills, and a cup of water, and once you're done swallowing you sense Doctor Jones studying you with a serious expression.

"Look, I like you- you seem like a sweet girl, so I'm gonna level with you," she says at last, and her eyes meet yours. "I hear all manner of people complaining about her, and I tell them all what I'm 'bout to tell you: _don't take it personal_." You open your mouth to argue that _she's_ the one that made it personal, but Doctor Jones holds up her hand.

"Now, listen- her training is the only combat training you'll get before you're _out there_. Fighting. For real. And every body that comes home in a box, _she_ takes personal. Don't you think it's hard to watch ya'll go off to get killed?"

You shrug. You guess you'd never thought of it like that. But it still doesn't excuse her picking on you mercilessly, or explain why she takes a special interest in humiliating you. You're the strongest, fastest, most in-shape girl in the company- if anyone needs assistance, it's Rose, that poor girl's a twig and can barely complete her PT in the morning without collapsing. The thought makes you angry at your Commander again.

No; if she really cared, she would pick on the weak ones, not you. Right? You're not weak.

You're not weak.

Are you?

* * *

**Weelllll so we got a lil' insight, but is it enough? You think Britt got the point of the lesson Santana was trying to teach her? Or was she just too harsh?**

**I guess find out tomorrow when/if I update tomorrow or whatever. LOL. **

**Review if you feel like saying anything, love and hate is all appreciated. :D**

**See you soon, pals! **


	4. Explosion

**A/N:** Hello again. :D Thanks for all the love and hate, as usual. I'm glad you all are enjoying the brutal story, haha.

**Trigger warning** for this chapter- it's not _actual_ dubcon, because she does give her own version of consent, and she definitely wants it, but. It could be construed that way because they fight _during_. So I don't want anyone to get any ~bad vibes because of it. Because that's awful, man.

Anyways. My darling, Lighthouse (**NegativeSpaces**) left a lovely review on chapter 3 for your learning pleasure that I think everyone should probably read regarding intersex people and how that translates to g!p in fic. G!p in itself is entirely made up. People like Brittany in this story- that is to say, chicks who are _born_ with fully-functional dicks- _do not exist_ in real life. If you think otherwise, you are living in a very skewed perception of reality, and your research probably consists of reading g!p fanfics.

Transgender people are not BORN that way. They transition from one sex to another at some point in their life. And, if someone writes a trangender fic, they would hopefully mark it as _transgender_ and not mislabel it as g!p.

This is a very sensitive subject, yes, but g!p is a _fantasy_. Please don't confuse it with real life- it's kind of an insult to real intersex/transgender people to do that, wouldn't you say?

Anyways, sorry to get all ~the more you know~ on you guys, but I felt that some of you are in the dark about what is real and what is not, so I wanted to take a second to cover it, because I care. :')

MOVING ON.

I'd like to think my lil bb polliwog, Dakota (**Perfectly Censored**) for her assistance with this chapter, even though she doesn't like Girl Wang. LOL. If you get the chance and you like angst, you should totally read her story, **Strange Fruit**. You won't be disappointed.

As promised, there's smut in this chapter. So. Have fun with that. If girl wangers are your thing. D:

* * *

You're halfway through week four, and a third of the way through your overall training, and somehow you thought things would get easier as they went on-

"Pierce, wipe that stupid look off your face! Rose, get your ass down! This isn't a petting zoo! Berry- what the fuck are you doing? _Hold your goddamn rifle up_!"

But they definitely didn't.

You try to follow Lieutenant Fabray's instructions as you wiggle and crawl across the ground, carrying your unloaded rifle. Nearby on your right, Berry struggles to do the same. She's mostly ignored you up to this point, which in your mind, is a positive thing; it means she hasn't picked on you. You briefly get her attention and show her how your elbows are bent to secure your weapon and keep it from dragging, and after a small pause, Berry readjusts her own rifle and smiles at you. You smile back. Maybe-

"Good, Berry! Now _move your ass_!"

You focus and crawl faster, cradling your rifle, waiting for instructions. When the Lieutenant tells you to pop up, you lunge to your feet, pointing your rifle straight ahead as if about to fire on an enemy. Your form is perfect, but you're worried. You start firing practice next week, and the thought of actually killing someone sometime in the near future is enough to make you queasy. You don't know if you have the guts to do it. You don't want to die, but you're pretty sure that's what's going to happen to you the second you get out on that battlefield. You're not a coward- you're not _scared_ of the faceless enemy waiting for you _out there_. You just can't reconcile the thought of killing that person. They're someone's son or brother or sister or daughter.

How can you take their life away?

"_Rush_!" Lieutenant Fabray yells, and you dash forward, keeping your rifle pointed straight ahead, counting the seconds in your mind.

2, 3, 4-

"AND _DOWN_! Chang! I said _hit the dirt_, soldier! Are you waiting for the enemy to see you?!"

You're already on the ground in prone position, clutching your rifle. These exercises aren't so bad. But you can't erase the fact that they are field exercises, and that you're going to have to actually _use_ them someday.

Someday soon, you're going to have to take someone's life.

* * *

It's later that night during personal time, and you're writing another letter home. Your parents had sent you a letter, telling you how proud they are and they can't wait to come to your graduation. You'd left out telling them about how reluctant you are to fight, and about how Commander Lopez has made it her personal mission to make your life a living hell. You didn't want to tell them how miserable you are, or that you'd most likely be dying the second you come up against an enemy. How could you tell them that?

The thought of dying scared you, and Commander Lopez did, too. But now, when she picks on you, you feel more anger than anything. Ever since she'd put you in the hospital wing, and stoked that angry fire inside you, you feel that slow rage burning inside whenever she singles you out. Especially since, every day that passes, she has less and less reason to pick on you. Everything she points out, you perfect. But that only means that when she does find something, her punishment is more severe. You're pretty sure you've scrubbed the entire floor in your barracks with your old toothbrush. (Thankfully, you'd managed to procure a new toothbrush from Doctor Jones after the follow-up visit for your black eye, which had healed fully.) You'd thought it would end after you finished, but Commander Lopez came up with new penalties for you.

Her recent favorite involved keeping you after drills for KP, which cut into your personal time. You couldn't do the chores she assigned on your own, which meant that Commander Lopez had to act like your babysitter, staying with you while you took out garbage from the mess, washed dishes, and scrubbed floors. You were really starting to get aggravated by the extra duties, especially considering they were unfairly given to you for no apparent reason. But the one time you'd tried to confront the Commander about it, you ended up regretting it. She'd rationed your meals for the next three days as punishment, which meant your stomach, which was already getting less than it was accustomed to at home, got even less sustenance.

"Still think I'm being unfair, Pierce?" she'd sneered as you'd sat down with your meager breakfast the following morning in the mess hall, and you'd kept your mouth shut and begrudgingly ate your eggs, burning with anger. But at least she'd stopped calling you _Stupid_.

After that, you completed your chores in fuming silence, wondering why the Commander was so unfair to you. What had you done to piss her off? If you had even _done_ anything. Did she not like the way you wore your hair? Did she not like the fact that you're taller than her? Her actions confuse you. For someone who hates you so much, she certainly spends a _lot_ of time with you, either supervising you or critiquing you. Several times while you'd been bent over cleaning something you'd caught her staring at you, an intense, unreadable expression on her face. What did _that_ mean? It made you feel self-conscious, but you know you're in better shape than any other girl in your company.

What the hell is her problem?

Frustrated, you shake out of your thoughts and finish penning the letter to your parents, folding it up and tucking it away just as Lieutenant Fabray calls _Lights Out_. You're tired, but your mind can't shut itself off. You lie awake in the darkness and wait for the first Fire Guard shift change, so you can make your usual escape to your secret sleeping place. Once there, you slip into your usual bunk and sigh.

You should be glad that you've only got six more weeks to go, but you're even more scared about what lies after you get out. Your situation is pretty hopeless, and you're powerless to change it. It's those aggravating thoughts that carry you to sleep.

* * *

You're drowning!

At least, that's what your panicked mind thinks as you jolt out of sleep to be greeted by a stream of cold water on your face. Sputtering, you scramble out of bed, your entire body arguing with you at the action as the frigid water continues to blast your body. You couldn't have been asleep more than two hours, and as you hold your hand up to block the spray to your face, to try and get your bearings, your stomach sinks as you realize that you're still in your secret sleeping place. There's only one problem:

It's not _secret_ anymore.

"Pierce, I don't know why you're here, but you are in _serious_ trouble!" Commander Lopez snaps, sounding almost _gleeful_ at the idea of you being in trouble. Of course she would. She loves watching you fail. The thought rips angry holes in you. She still hasn't shut the hose off. You wonder how she found you, but she answers the question for you.

"The Lieutenant and I decided to do a little surprise nighttime field exercise with you guys, but guess who wasn't in their bed?" she taunts, her voice carrying over the sound of the water. You wonder what the hell kind of hose she must be using, and then the water slowly dies into a trickle as she shuts it off. "I can't imagine why you would be scurrying off to sleep in this shit-hole, but-" she cuts off abruptly, but it takes you a minute to figure out why. You're too busy shivering. You can't really feel your toes, your shirt is soaked, and your shorts-

Your stomach turns to ice. _Shit._ Mortified, you quickly move to cover yourself, snatching at your shorts, which are down by your knees- the force of the water must have pushed them down- but they're sopping wet, and drag against your skin.

"Well, that explains a _lot_," Commander Lopez sneers, and something in her tone finally breaks you. Or maybe it's the fact that she just violated and humiliated you worse than you've ever imagined. Whatever it is, it's pissed you right the hell off, and with an angry cry, you launch yourself at your Commander.

You think she didn't expect your attack; that must be the only reason why you've managed to slam Commander Lopez back against an old locker. Her glare cuts through you, making you shiver with fear and arousal, for some reason. Something inside you has snapped, and you're going to do what you've been dreaming of for four weeks.

You're going to take control.

The Commander puts up a fight, swinging her fist, but you've been trained in hand-to-hand combat, now, and, with the anger guiding your actions, you engage the _warrior_ side of yourself- you engage your _training_. You block her hit, and her eyes widen in surprise, a smirk gracing her lips.

She shoves you back, growling, "_Finally_ something has stuck in that _fluffy_ head of yours, Pierce!" She swings again to prove her point, aiming for your head, and you block it without thinking, ducking and rushing her. She twists, and you tackle her to the bunk next to you. Her back hits the bare mattress with a thump, and she squirms, trying to get out of your grasp. The feel of her beneath you, and her body against you, even in this combat position, is feeding your arousal. You can feel yourself getting hard. Your shorts are still around your knees, and it sinks in that your bare hips are pressed to Commander Lopez, the rough material of her uniform stimulating you as she moves beneath you.

_Beneath_ you.

The thought makes your dick throb with excitement, makes your breath hitch. The woman you extremely dislike- the woman who's caused you nothing but pain and torment for the last four weeks- is beneath you. You can feel her firm, supple body pressed against you, you can feel your hardness pressed to her thigh. You lift your head up to look at your Commander's face, and find her glaring at you, her full lips parted to allow for her slightly heavy breathing. Her brown eyes are darker than you've ever seen them, and swirling with a mixture of beautiful, beautiful anger and _something else_, and without thinking, you lean forward to kiss her.

Her fist connects with your jaw- _hard_- before your lips can touch hers, though, and you're taken aback. You'd thought, by the look in her eyes-

You meet her gaze again, and find her biting her lip. Okay, so maybe she _doesn't_ want it. You know that she could've kicked your ass before, though. She let you tackle her to the bed, but she won't let you kiss her? You pull back a little, and settle on your knees on the cold concrete floor, your anger starting to fade in favor of confusion.

What is this tension between you, then? Is it really only mutual dislike? What is this pull in your stomach? Why is your dick still so hard, almost painfully throbbing with arousal? You hate her, but you _want_ her. And the way she's looking at you is telling you she feels the same way, but-

"You're pathetic," Commander Lopez spits, sitting up on her elbows. She makes no move to get up, and you narrow your eyes. What the fuck is she doing?

She waves towards your dick, which is still hard and exposed, and you swallow. Does she not want you because you have a dick?

"Look at how hard you are," she taunts. "But you give up because I _punched_ you?" She rolls her eyes, and you feel that anger boiling again. "You're weak, Pierce. You're a _doormat_. You'll never achieve anything if you give up so easily. You'll die the second you get on that battlefield-"

"Shut _up_!" You snarl through clenched teeth, shoving her. Her words have struck a nerve, and you feel your rage spiking again. You didn't give up. You stopped because-

"Or else what?" she demands. She shoves you back, harder. "Do I have to criticize the size of your wanghole before you do something abo-"

You swing at her, and she blocks it, easily. You're amazed to find her grinning, and the sight makes both your heart ache and your blood boil. She's _still_ taunting you.

The next few seconds are a blur as she lands a hit to your temple, and you attempt to pin her arms. She finally wraps a hand around your loose ponytail and pulls, yanking your head back enough to get her other hand on your face. She pushes, and then you find yourself on your back on the mattress, with her straddling you. Your dick is pressed between her legs, right up against her center. You can feel how hot she is through her uniform pants, and it makes you pulse with desire. The image of her on top of you is almost too much- and then she rolls her hips.

"Is _this_ what you want, Pierce?" she demands, but her voice is low and sultry, her hand still tangled in your hair. The sound makes you groan, low in your throat. She grinds against you, and you're ashamed at the sight of the clear liquid trickling from the tip of your penis. "Huh? _Answer_ _me_."

You want to say _no_- but you can hardly breathe. The sight of her straddling your dick, grinding on it, is hotter than any fantasy you've gotten yourself off to- but it's wrong. _She's_ still in control. You open your mouth to respond, and she stills her hips. She laughs, shaking her head, and you feel like an idiot. She's made you look stupid- _again_. Her laughter burns through you and you grit your teeth. She moves to climb off of you- but _no_.

You buck up, twist her arm, and pin her to the bed beside you, on her stomach, bent over the edge of the bed as you kneel behind her, holding her down. And just like that, you're in control again.

"_That's it_."

Her low purr both throws you and encourages you, and without thinking, you slip your hand under her and tug at her belt. She doesn't resist- at least, not as much as you know she's capable of- and your heart pounds as you pull her uniform pants down with one hand, keeping her in submission with the other. The thought makes you throb with desire again, and as her pants fall down to her knees, exposing her firm ass clothed only in her tight, boycut underwear, and her toned, caramel thighs, you subconsciously lick your lips. Without hesitation you slip your fingers under the waistband of her panties, moving them quickly between her legs- you have to know if she wants it, if she wants you-

Your fingers touch her, and she's _soaked_. You slip two fingers into her, and groan at how tight she is, imagining how good she's going to feel around your cock. You think you hear her say _shit_, but you're not sure- you're breathing too hard. Her body shudders beneath you at your touch, and you can feel yourself trembling, too. Fuck. You want her so _bad_-

She twists out of your grasp suddenly, rolling onto her back, her ass at the edge of the mattress. You're still kneeling between her legs, bent forward and over her, and her hand on your face, pushing you back, surprises you. You meet her eyes again, and the dark brown seems like it's on fire.

"You want it?" she hisses. "Then _take_ it."

You lunge forward again, desperate to kiss her, but she turns her face and wraps an arm around your neck, trapping you in a headlock. You twist out of it roughly using your training and pin one of her arms to the bed, resting your weight on top of her and freeing your other hand to tug her underwear down.

Her short nails claw into your shoulder, but you manage to get her panties down and keep her pinned to the bed, and you don't miss the way her eyes watch as you finally grab your pulsing shaft. You guide the head of it to her wet center, and you're beyond excited. You think you're going to explode the second you touch her, you want it so badly. The power control is making your head spin, making your pulse pound. You've never felt like this before. You squeeze the base of your dick harshly to stave off your orgasm- the last thing you want to do is embarrass yourself. Again.

Slowly- well, okay, not so slowly. You want to go slow, but you're too eager, too pumped up from the power rush, too turned on. You push the dripping head of your dick against her hot entrance, moaning at the amount of wetness you find there. You try to resist the urge to bury yourself quickly, determined to drag this out as long as possible, to assert yourself, to be in control and dominate for once- but you just _can't_.

You've barely got the head of your dick in when you feel her clench around you, drawing you in deeper, and it feels so good- _too_ good. Your intent flies out the window at all the tight, wet warmth suddenly surrounding the tip of your dick, and then you're gasping, your hips driving forward involuntarily and she whimpers beneath you, taking it, taking _all_ of you.

You manage a gasp of, "_Yeah_-" before you bite your lip hard, hoping the pain will kill some of your arousal. You're nearly coming just from the feel of parting her slick folds, of being enveloped in all that smooth wetness deep inside her. You try to fuck her slowly- really, you do- but after two pumps, what fragile control you have snaps, and you tighten your grip on her hips before hammering into her erratically. You feel her clench tightly around you, hear her crying out at the sudden, rough penetration. She's so _tight_.

"Fuck, I can't-" You half-pant, half-choke in her ear as you plow her once, twice, three times, and you're already too close to stop. You wanted to make her come; to make her beg for it, to make her feel powerless, but it backfired, and you're so desperate for your own release that your hips rut forward again and again, plunging into her. You grunt with each thrust; a quick glance at her face shows she's watching the way you disappear inside her, and you feel her rhythmically tightening around your shaft, craving her own orgasm. It's what finally makes you break, and you can't contain your unsexy grunt of release as you bury your pulsing cock deep inside her, spurts of warm fluid filling her up.

Panting raggedly, your arms shake. You're still buried completely inside your Commander, but you don't think too much about it- you can still feel her clenching around you, begging for relief, and the feeling of it gets you hard again. You're riding on an incredible high- both from coming, and from being completely in control. The fact that Commander Lopez is still beneath you, glaring at you, is enough to make your dick twitch.

You chuckle darkly. You find your voice. "You fucking bitch, you want my cock, don't you?" You're surprised at the words that tumble out of your mouth- but that burning is back, and you already know you're in deep shit. You might as well get full satisfaction from this, right?

Commander Lopez is silent, so you tug her hair sharply, taking pleasure at the anger in her eyes. "Don't you?" you repeat, more forcefully. You feel her clench around your dick at your words, and all at once, your ego is appeased. _She wants it. _

You don't expect your Commander to start laughing.

"_You're_ the one who couldn't control yourself," she sneers. "You're hard for me again, _already_... Maybe you'll get _me_ off this time, since you couldn't the first time- just another thing you _fail_ at, Pierce." She spits your name like a curse, and it makes you growl angrily.

You pull your hips back and ram them forward sharply, burying yourself so deep it makes her cry out in surprise. You're silent as you fuck her wildly, the only noise the sounds of your rough panting and the wet sound of you parting her slick flesh repeatedly. You're determined to make her fall apart- _for you_. You can tell she's getting close by the way she rakes her nails painfully down your back, and the way her breathing has picked up in tempo, and the way she's strangling your cock inside-

You can feel yourself getting close again, too, so you reach down with one hand and begin to rub at her clit. The added stimulation, and the way you shift your hips to push deeper make Commander Lopez come hard, and the way she grips you, inside and out, makes you lose yourself again. You can't take the way she arches up beneath you, or the way her mouth drops open with a harsh breath, or the way her thighs tighten around your own, or the way her inner walls milk your cock, squeezing and pulsing around it. You shudder hard, and before you lose all your strength, you pull out, falling back to lean against the locker.

You sit for a moment and just listen to her heavy breathing. You're enjoying the afterglow of your orgasms, and the liberating feeling of having asserted yourself. Dopily, you smile and trace your eyes over your Commander's disheveled form.

And then your smile falls as your senses come back to you.

_Shit_.

It occurs to you suddenly that you just fucked your Commander, and you're not even entirely sure she 100% consented. She didn't say no, and she definitely encouraged it, after all, but- _shit_, you're in _so much trouble_.

She doesn't move for a long moment, and you notice she's still shivering. You're half-terrified and half-satiated. You have no clue what to expect. You gingerly wiggle your still-wet shorts up enough to cover your soft dick, wet and glistening with both of your releases, and wait. You chew your lip, and think about what life in prison might be like, and if it tops dying on a battlefield somewhere.

Finally, Commander Lopez sits up. "_Fuck_." She eyes you for a moment, her brown eyes narrowing into a glare, and then she smirks. "Didn't know you had it in you, Pierce."

You blink, confused. "Are you- are you mad?"

Commander Lopez laughs darkly, and barely shakes her head. "Just remember- payback's a bitch."

You glare. This had been payback already. What could she possible do that would be worse than what she's been doing? And anyways, she wanted it. She basically manipulated you into fucking her, though you wanted to anyway. Your thoughts run in circles as you watch her stand and fix her uniform and hair. She's done in less than three minutes, and then, you're staring up at Commander Lopez, completely composed and in control again.

"Pierce, I _trust_ you know not to go opening your mouth about this to anyone, but just in case you don't- _keep your fucking mouth shut_." She spins and walks towards the door, and, stunned, you watch her go. When she reaches the door, she pauses. "Get up and get ready for PT. I expect you out there in thirty."

She slams the door, leaving you in a messy heap, but you just smile lazily.

Maybe this whole military thing isn't as bad as you thought.

* * *

**Okay, I have to get something off my chest- my tumblr wifey (**_**killercereal**_**) dared me to use the word **_**wanghole**_** in this chapter. And well- MISSION ACCOMPLISHED.**

**So what do ya'll think is gonna happen now that they've done the smexx? Think Santana will stop being a raging bitch? **

**This chapter completes the filling of the GKM prompt, so what happens from here is pretty much all me. I have some fun stuff planned, and a shit-ton more smut on the way, so I hope you guys are gonna like it. **

** Review if you feel like it. Or don't. It's okay, really. I don't mind. **

**AND NOW A WORD FROM ~OFFICER SAFETY:**

**Don't fucking have sex without a condom, for fuck's sake. Britt's sterile and they are both definitely free of STIs because of military testing, but **_**you**_** live in the ~real world, and that shit is just NOT SAFE.**

**It doesn't matter if you use "the pull-out method" or you're on the pill or whatever fuckall contraception shit you're using, it does not stop the transmission of STIs- ONLY using a condom (or, okay, abstinence, but that's no fun) does. And I know you think Prince Charming (or Princess, if there's a Girl Wang involved- hey, Peeta, **_**real**_** or **_**not real**_**?) is 10000% faithful, but when you have herpes because he cheated with Skanky McUglyFace and caught them from her and then passed them to you, you'll think about your life choices again while you're using the medication, but it'll be **_**too late**_**, because herpes IS FO' LYFE. **

**So. Condoms. Yes. Thanks.**

**STAY SAFE AND PLAY SAFE! :D**

**See you, pals! **


	5. Ammo

**A/N:** Oh hi. It's me again. :) Obviously. Haha

Thanks again for all the love and hate! It seems like you guys are just as confused as Britt about Commander Lopez, huh? Don't worry, her feelings/reasons will be revealed in time. ;D

In the meantime, enjoy this smutty chapter. :P

* * *

Week five, and life had not improved for you. If anything, it got worse since you'd fucked your Commander. Because there's no doubting that's what it was- _fucking_. There had been no feelings involved- at least, not on _her_ end. You thought you _might_ have felt something, but any nice feelings you may have had for your Commander were hard to find buried under your anger and humiliation. Especially since Commander Lopez has been even colder to you- literally. At least three times since you fucked her, you've been awoken by a bucket of ice water being dumped on your face. However, for some reason, Commander Lopez let you continue in your routine of sneaking out to sleep in the old barracks. It confused you, but you were grateful.

You'd gotten used to Commander Lopez's impromptu wake-up calls, and most of the time you managed to wake up before she could barge in and do it herself. On those days, she'd snap at you to stand at attention, and then she'd escort you back to your barracks. The girls on Fire Guard never questioned your return, always assuming the Commander had pulled you in the middle of the night for extra duties. You'd buy it, too. After all, you were still on KP during the day, on top of your other drills. Between all the extra work, you were starting to wonder if you'd even _survive_ long enough to die out on a battlefield.

Your chances of surviving were growing slimmer day by day. You'd started firing practice this week, and you'd proven to be an excellent shot- the only problem is, you never aimed for a vital area on the target, instead shooting for limbs and hitting them with startling accuracy. It surprised and impressed Lieutenant Fabray, but it only angered and provoked Commander Lopez, and you found yourself with even more hard labor the longer you went without qualifying with your weapon, because-

"Limb shots _do not count_, Pierce, _for fuck's sake_," Commander Lopez snaps at you again. "Do you think hitting your enemy in the wrist is going to stop him from shooting you?"

"How can he shoot with one arm?" You wonder out loud.

"Listen, Pierce," Lieutenant Fabray says calmly from your other side, "we understand your desire to disable rather than kill-"

"_No_, we _don't_-" The Commander growls.

"-but we are in a _war_. A man with a bullet hole in his wrist can still throw a grenade, still call for airstrikes, and still be a danger to us. Your accuracy is incredible- but think of how much more incredible it would be if you hit your enemies in the chest? Or the head?"

You feel your stomach go queasy at the thought. Images of brains splattering like in one of the old war movies your dad used to watch when you were a kid flash through your memory, and you suddenly find it difficult to swallow.

"Or maybe _you'd_ rather be the one with a bullet in their head?" Commander Lopez demands. She shakes her head disgustedly and storms away, leaving you clutching your rifle and feeling like you swallowed a very heavy stone, though you're not sure how you could ever manage to do that.

You have until the end of the week to qualify, and you're not even sure you can. Those paper targets aren't real, but they represent real people.

Real people you have to kill.

* * *

The next morning, you wake up to a bucket of ice water being dumped on your face. Again. Gasping for air, you sit up suddenly, realizing quickly that- you're being sucked off.

Your first instinct is anger. What the fuck? How dare Commander Lopez barge into your room, wake you up, and then give you a… blowjob? Do you hear yourself?

You're certain that she's doing it to get back at you, and for no other reason. You made her feel powerless when you fucked her, when you topped her, when you took what wasn't really _yours_- (you still remember the feeling of her coming around your dick, and you've gotten yourself off to that memory multiple times in the past week) and now she's making _you_ feel powerless in return.

You know the game she's playing, and you want to push her away.

You want to push her away.

You want to…

"Ugh- _fuck_," you rasp, your voice initially hoarse from sleep, but now rough with arousal.

Your hand automatically moves to rest on Commander Lopez's head, but before it can reach its destination, it's being smacked violently away, and she's pulling back, glaring at you. You feel the loss of her mouth on you through your entire body, and you lie there, panting and squirming- _pathetic_.

Her cold, brown eyes are dark and triumphant, and you hate yourself for wanting her mouth back on you so badly. She lowers her lips to kiss just the tip, and you gasp and lift your hips desperately, begging through your actions for her to just take you in her mouth again.

But she doesn't.

Her tongue flicks out, teases you, wraps around the underside of the head and licks up, and you struggle to remain silent- you don't want to give her the satisfaction of knowing you're desperate, even though it can be seen from space how much you want her. You at least want to try and hold on to some dignity. You watch her face intently, the wicked, playful smirk and the devious glint in her eyes making you painfully hard.

She purses her lips tightly and wraps them around the head of your dick; then, she lowers her mouth, taking first the entire head, then inches of your shaft, and oh- _fuck_- you're close already. You grab the sheets by your hips, clenching them, biting your lip to stifle your groans. You feel pathetic- ashamed- at how close you are already. You pray to hold out just a little longer, to not come so soon- but then the tip of your dick hits the back of her throat, and she swallows around you, the flexing of her throat muscles just barely caressing the sides of your shaft, and her tongue strokes the underside of you, and, god, how does her hot, wet mouth feel so _good_?

She pulls back, her lips tightly sealed around you so that she's practically pulling on your dick, and you bite your lip harder, feeling that tightening in your stomach, feeling your tension building to its breaking point. Her tongue teases your slit and she sucks- _hard-_ on the head, and that's it.

You're done for.

You can't even hold in your cry of release as you feel your dick twitch in her hot mouth, and your come start to flow onto her tongue. You shudder hard, feeling her swallow around you, and without thinking you go to grab the back of her head again-

"Fuck," you whimper as she detaches her mouth from you, and you've never been more sorry for touching her as you watch white drops of your come shoot onto your stomach instead of disappearing down her throat.

She glares at you, wiping her mouth, and doesn't say a word. Instead, she stands, turns and exits, leaving you trembling on your back, gasping, as your dick pulses and eventually softens. And you know- you _know_- that you're going to pay for touching her like that.

And you hate yourself for wanting it.

* * *

"Pierce!"

You turn at the sound of your name, and find Berry rushing to catch up with you in the mess for lunch. The girl had been making an effort to say _hi_ to you whenever she could, ever since you'd helped her with her field crawling last week. It's a welcome change to hear your name said in a friendly tone instead of a despising one, so you offer her a smile.

"May I sit with you today?" she asks as she reaches you, holding a tray that's piled high with salad.

"You might have to face the wrath of the Commander," you murmur darkly. You're almost positive that befriending someone will only backfire and cause you more pain. Everything you actually enjoy does.

"I'm not afraid," Berry says with a shrug and a smile, her brown eyes shining with determination. "I'm a big girl."

You decide, right then, that you like Berry a lot, and so you nod and the two of you sit down across from each other on one end of a long dining table.

"I saw your target today," she says casually, stabbing her fork into some fresh tomatoes. "Your aim is really quite good."

You shrug, feeling sullen. You don't really want to talk about shooting, but you also don't want to upset your new friend on the first day of your friendship.

"I get it, you know?" Berry says seriously, and you look up from your mashed potatoes to find her staring at you intently. "You don't want to have to kill someone, to take their life away." Her voice grows increasingly more passionate as she says, "What if they have kids? Or- or they _want_ to, and we're taking that chance, that opportunity from them?" She shakes her head sadly. "I understand why you'd rather wound than kill."

You're taken aback by her passion, but more than that, you're impressed that she understands. But still. "You do it, though."

Her smile turns bitter. "I'm not as good of a markswoman as you, Pierce. I have no choice."

"I wish I didn't either, sometimes," you admit. "I just can't summon the desire to hurt someone that badly. I don't want to die, but I guess I'd rather that than the alternative."

"Don't say that," Berry says, and you shrug again, poking at your potatoes. It's silent for a minute while you both eat, but then Berry puts her fork down. "You helped me," she says seriously, "now I'm going to help you."

You look at her blankly. "What do you mean?"

"For me, I think of something that I love more than anything in the entire world. Something that I can't stand to lose. Something that, if I lost it, I wouldn't know what to do. Do you have something like that?"

You think for a moment. The first thing that comes to your mind is Commander Lopez, and you scold yourself internally. What the actual fuck? Commander Lopez should be the exact _opposite_ of the thing Berry described. You don't even have feelings for her. You only fucked her once and then she sucked you off. It's not like you're even- well, _anything_. You shake your head at your crazy thoughts, search your mind for something else, and think of your parents- and your cat, Lord Tubbington- instead.

A sharp whistle blows. "All right, Ladies, chow time's over," Lieutenant Fabray calls to your company, and you quickly and obediently rise to your feet, grabbing up your food tray. Berry follows.

"Well, once you have that thing," she continues, taking fast steps to keep up with your longer strides, "just imagine that target is trying to take it away from you."

A shoulder collides with you, making you drop you tray. Your plastic plate and tray clatter to the floor, spilling the leftover scraps of food.

"Watch where you're going, Pierce," Wilde sneers, and you see Rose give her a low-five. The two of them walk away, laughing, and you take a deep, calming breath as you sink to the floor to pick up your discarded tray.

Berry bends to help you. "Or, just pretend the target is Wilde," she jokes.

You smirk.

* * *

You manage to qualify with your rifle- with a perfect score. Berry's advice had really helped you tap into your anger, and you visualized someone hurting your cat, and your mom, and your dad, (and Commander Lopez, though you're reluctant to admit it) to access it. You also used your determination to prove to Commander Lopez that you weren't powerless, and you were the only one in your company to get a perfect score, earning you a special title.

"Good job, Pierce," Lieutenant Fabray says proudly as she fastens a small silver pin to your uniform collar, marking you as the Top Gun. "Keep it up and you'll be promoted before you know it."

You smile, and catch Berry giving you a thumbs-up over the Lieutenant's shoulder. On the Lieutenant's right, you catch Wilde glaring at you. She'd had the second-highest score, and if you hadn't beaten her, she would be Top Gun, and not you. You smirk. You've finally bested her. You've finally proven to your entire company that you're not worthless.

You find Commander Lopez, who is standing, arms crossed, by a stack of ammo crates. Her brown eyes burn into you, and her expression is once again unreadable. You can't tell if she's proud of you, or if she wants to rip you to shreds. Her intense gaze is making you squirm, and reminding you of the look in her eyes when your cock was in her mouth. The thought makes you feel a slight tingle in your groin and you take a slow, calming breath and focus on trying _not_ to be aroused. You still have a lot of gun-fighting drills this afternoon and won't have any time to take care of yourself if you get a raging hard-on. Which means you'll have to suffer, and that's the last thing you want.

You try to tear your eyes from the Commander, but you can't stop staring at her full, pink lips and remembering how they felt wrapped around your dick. You suppose you don't mind feeling powerless under her capable mouth. You feel yourself beginning to get hard and curse internally. You hope if you ever get the chance to be sucked off by your Commander again, you'll keep your hands away from her head- and the thought makes your stomach sink, and, thankfully kill your arousal, because you know your punishment for that offense is still on its way.

* * *

It's three days later when Commander Lopez takes her revenge.

Again, you wake up to a bucket of ice water on your face, and you jolt up, not certain what to expect, but it definitely _wasn't_ her yelling at you.

"PIERCE! FRONT LEANING REST! _NOW_!"

You scramble out of bed as fast as you can without protest- you don't need any more reasons to earn her punishment. You assume the push-up position and hold yourself up, your heart racing from the surprise wake-up and adrenaline. You shiver- your entire head and upper part of your gray tee shirt are soaked with ice-cold water. She walks slowly around you, inspecting your position, her boots tapping ominously on the concrete. Your back is as rigid as a board- _perfect_ _form_. She will have _nothing_ to criticize.

"Down."

You lower yourself, hovering above the floor easily.

"Up."

You push yourself up. Flawlessly. You smirk. You were in great shape when you joined, but all her extra PT has put you in even better shape. You could do push-ups all day.

"Keep going. Count it out- until I tell you to stop."

"Yes, Commander," you say, your voice clear and firm. You're proud of yourself for your confidence. You lower yourself. "_One_." You push back-up. You lower yourself again. "Two." You push up. You keep going. You hit ten and you blow right past it. You hit twenty and you're not even close to being tired.

At twenty-five, Commander Lopez sits down in front of you, and you falter for a moment, curious as to what she's doing.

"What was that, Pierce?" she asks coldly.

"Twenty-seven, Commander!" You say with certainty.

Commander Lopez nods. "Continue."

At thirty, you're starting to feel a slight burn in your muscles, but you're nowhere near burned out. You're enjoying the exercise, and in some deep part of your brain, you wonder if (hope) Commander Lopez is a little impressed with your physical form- you're the most in shape out of all the girls in your squad, after all, and you're proud of it. All those years of dance really paid off.

At thirty-five, you're worried- Commander Lopez is smirking at you with a devious look in her eye, and when you hit forty, she positions herself so that she's on her back beneath you, almost in a 69 position-

You shut your eyes at the thought, but it's too late- you can feel your dick responding. Fuck. She's going to notice that- _Fuck_. What number are you on?

"F-forty-four," you stammer, and squeeze your eyes shut tighter as you lower yourself, your face hovering just above your Commander's clothed sex. You swallow.

"You said that already," Commander Lopez snaps from beneath you.

You open your mouth to respond, and then choke on your words as you feel a warm hand snake beneath your shorts. You pause in your push-up, hovering, shaking with restraint- her palm wraps around your shaft and pumps once, twice, and you bite your lip hard.

"Did I tell you to stop?"

Her firm voice snaps you out of your aroused fog, and you go to lower yourself, but as you near the floor, you feel your now rock-hard cock enter her mouth, and you groan.

"Fourty-six." You push-up, pulling your dick from her mouth in the process, and oh, god, is this really happening?

You go down again, and her mouth wraps around you, sucking briefly, and fuck, fuck, it _is_ happening, and you struggle to hold on to the numbers as she pumps you and sucks the head of your cock intermittently when you're in the down position. You're in complete disbelief- you're essentially fucking your Commander's mouth. You're on top of her.

And you still feel powerless.

At fifty, you're trembling. You've already leaked a stream of precum into her hot mouth, and you can feel your orgasm approaching. The diversion of your energy and attention, and the fact that all your blood has pretty much travelled to your dick, has made the exercise harder- your arms, shoulders, and chest are burning. Your abs are screaming. Your dick is twitching in Lopez's hand, in her mouth, and you feel close to exploding any second, but you have to push yourself there- literally.

You're right at the edge when it happens- she commands, "_Stop_," and you're in plank position, hovering, struggling to hold yourself up over her. She releases your hard, throbbing cock and instead dives her left hand to the buckle on her own pants. She pulls it open, quickly undoes the button and zipper, and slides her hand down between her legs.

This can't be happening. You're literally seconds away from your release- you just need one final push. You think if she even just breathes on you, you'll come. You can smell her arousal, your face is so close. You can't see her fingers but you know she's fucking herself by the vigorous movement of her arm.

You want to cry in frustration. You buck your hips slightly, careful not to break form too much, and groan again. She's definitely punishing you. You're about to beg- you're that desperate- when finally she says, in a voice that sounds much less in control, "Down."

You almost scream in relief as you lower yourself into her waiting mouth.

She takes you to the hilt and sucks, and it's all you need. You're exploding down her throat seconds later, feeling the vibrations of her moans around your cock as she swallows your hot load. She comes seconds later, her hips arching up into her hand, and your arms shake from exertion as you struggle to hold the position.

It feels like you come forever, but then too soon she's releasing you from her velvet mouth and giving you permission to rest. You collapse onto your side, breathing heavily and shaking, and she takes a deep breath, composing herself.

She stands up gracefully, fixes her uniform, adjusts her bun and again, leaves without speaking to you.

You're winded. You did over sixty push-ups. You came down Commander Lopez's throat.

And you still want her.

* * *

**Sooo now Britt's dealing with getting sucked off…. Gosh, what a hard life. (pun intended! AHAHA.)**

**What do ya'll think of Berry? And Wilde? Think there's some Pierce/Wilde confrontation coming up..? ;) Oouu, you might be right…  
****And what about Commander Lopez? Britt seems like she's doing a little bit better with asserting herself… **

**All of it will be dealt with as the story progresses, so hang in there! R****eview if you feel like it! But if you don't want to, then, hey. I can't make you. :D**

**AND NOW A WORD FROM OFFICER SAFETY:**

**Blowjobs can be fun. Uh- I **_**guess**_**. If you like wangers. ._.**

**But keep in mind, if that wang isn't wrapped up in a condom, it can get all of its diseases all over your face. Pleasant to think about, huh?**

**PROTECT YOURSELF. How do you do that? By ARMING YOURSELF! With KNOWLEDGE! BULLETS OF KNOWLEDGE!**

**STAY SAFE AND PLAY SAFE! **

**See you next time! **


	6. Obstacle

**A/N:** Hello, again. Thanks once again for all your reviews, nice and otherwise. :) I'm glad you guys enjoy the filthy workings of my brain, ahahah.

As for this chapter, it's mostly plot, but that only means that the next chapter will be extra-smutty to make up for it. ;)

Well. Enjoy.

* * *

"Faster, Pierce!" Commander Lopez snaps at you from the sidelines as you sprint towards a seven-foot wooden wall. You plant your foot on the sturdy wood and launch yourself up, and as your hands grip the top and you pull yourself up and over, you can't help but imagine Commander Lopez saying those same words to you in a different context.

_Not now_. You need to focus on completing the obstacle course before you as quickly as possible. It's your final PT and combat test before you hit your FTX phase, which involves camping and survival, and you don't want to fuck it up. You will your thoughts towards speed and power as you jump up to grab the monkey bars on the next obstacle and work your way across them. It's hot, and you were already sweating just from being outside. You're wearing your normal black-and-gray camouflaged pattern BDUs tucked into your black combat boots, and military-issue gray tee shirt- but for this drill, you're also fitted in your matching tactical vest, with your assault rifle slung tightly across your back. The added weight isn't unbearable, but is slightly more of a challenge, and as you stick your landing from the monkey bars and burst into another sprint, you feel the weight beginning to take its toll.

You hit an inverted wall, and you launch yourself up, grip the edge, and dig your boots in to gain some sort of footing as you haul yourself over. Your chest and arms are already feeling a slight burn as you make it over the wall and move steadily down it. Again you sprint to your next obstacle and you hit the dirt, high-crawling as quickly as possible underneath a series of ropes. Around you, your company is yelling and cheering in support. Most of them had stopped being assholes to you after you'd won Top Gun; the only ones who'd refused to let up were Wilde and Rose- and of course, Commander Lopez.

"That's it, Pierce! Get up!" Lieutenant Fabray yells. You climb heavily to your feet, feeling a little winded already, but push yourself further and jump agilely over a series of six logs, raised three feet high.

"Over! Over! Over!" she chants as you brace yourself on each log with your right hand and jump, swinging your legs neatly over and landing gracefully. Your adrenaline is flowing and you feel pumped, and even though your breath is starting to come a lot faster, you finish the logs and rush to the next obstacle- a fifty-foot cargo net up to a raised platform.

You jump and grab the ropes and climb. You can hear Berry now, screaming for you. You push yourself harder, reach the platform, and pull yourself up. A single rope attached to a post is your way down- the Slide for Life. You reach up, grip the rope tightly, and kick your feet up. You wrap your ankles around the rope and pull yourself, head first, across the rope and down towards the ground. Beneath you is a large pool of water, but your grip is secure, and your boots protect your ankles from the rough rope as you make your way down.

"Go, Pierce!" Lieutenant Fabray cheers proudly, and you can't help the smirk that graces your lips as you reach the end of the rope line and drop down to your feet. You sprint, sucking in air, and run up an inclined log to another low platform surrounded in water. You climb over another wall, this time only five feet, and on the other side, Rose waits in full pads and helmet, holding a pugil stick.

You pick the spare one up and charge her, using the anger visualization technique Berry helped you develop. (It doesn't hurt that your opponent is Rose, either.) The physical activity and your mental focus are making you hyper-aware and you feel like time slows down around you as you approach Rose. With a slight growl, you slam into her, and, breathing heavily, twist your pugil stick, jabbing her in the ribs and throwing her to the ground. She lands hard and you quickly drop your stick for the next girl and advance.

You're starting to get really winded as you reach your final task- a rope climb. You grab the rope and pull yourself up, your upper body screaming. You use your feet for traction, securing the rope around your boot as you go, and force yourself to climb. You make it all the way to the top of the thirty-foot rope, and slam your hand across the bell, signaling your completion of the course.

"Three twenty-seven," Sergeant Major Beiste calls from nearby, sounding incredulous as she holds up her stopwatch, and you're floored at your time. You had to complete the course in ten minutes, and you're amazed at your own speed. You'd been hoping for five minutes, but three and a half? You look over to find Lieutenant Fabray's mouth hanging open. Secretly pleased, your eyes slide to Commander Lopez, hoping she'll be impressed-

"Disqualified," she snaps from her place beside Lieutenant Fabray, and you blink in shock. _What_?

Panting, you march over to where your superiors stand, reaching up to wipe sweat from your brow. Beside Major Beiste, Chang stands, looking confused and hesitant with her clipboard. She looks from Lieutenant Fabray to Commander Lopez, unsure whether to record your time or not.

"You heard me," Commander Lopez says venomously. "_Disqualified_."

You're close enough to see Chang swallow, but obediently begin writing on the clipboard, and you feel anger burning in your stomach.

"Can I ask why, Commander?" Major Beiste addresses, and Commander Lopez turns her icy glare on you.

You return it, narrowing your eyes, your face stony as she says, "Pierce, this is your combined PT and _combat_ final, correct?"

Straightening up tall, you snap, "Yes, Commander!"

"So tell me why, when you were presented with the opportunity, you didn't finish Rose off? You had her on her back, but you threw your weapon down and continued."

Speechless and completely stunned that Commander Lopez is disqualifying you for such a stupid technicality, you fumble for words. You look at Lieutenant Fabray for help, but her lips are pressed into a hard line and her hazel eyes are resigned.

Commander Lopez gets in your face, and you clench your jaw, struggling to hold your tongue as she grabs you by your rifle sling and tugs you forward and down. "You are about to go to _war_, Pierce," she hisses, low and deadly. Her eyes are like brown flint, hard and cold. "You don't think Rose could have gotten up and shot you in the back as you were moving forward? You don't think she could've shot one of your fellow soldiers behind you?"

You swallow. The Commander is right, but still. You didn't think-

"Grow some fucking lady balls and _make a fucking kill_. Or I swear you'll live just long enough to get yourself- or those around you- killed."

She releases your sling with a slight shove and you struggle to keep your respectful position. Her jab at your ladyhood stings- especially since she knows about your secret. The thought angers you further and you burn with embarrassment and rage as Lieutenant Fabray calls for an end of drill, and summons you into company formation to march to the mess for dinner.

You had the best time so far on the obstacle course, and you were disqualified over a technicality. But, even knowing your fault, you're not sure you can bring yourself to stab Rose- even if it's simulated.

* * *

"Don't take it so hard," Berry reassures you as you sit down to dinner. Your rations have, thankfully, been returned to normal, but even after so much physical activity, you have no desire to eat. You push your carrots around on your plate and sulk.

You're really, really tired of Commander Lopez's unfair treatment of you, and it's starting to make you sick because you can't get over your desire to fuck her, either. The hunger for her is starting to consume you, and it doesn't help that every time you see her, she looks flawless. You can't help staring at her plump, full lips, and remembering them wrapped around your dick. You wonder what they taste like. You spend a good amount of your morning PT fantasizing about kissing her. The rest of the time you dream about plunging your dick into her tight, wet heat again, about taking her in random places. It's driving you crazy, but you can't stop. You want to be inside her again, but so far, the only contact you have with her- besides your two blowjobs- is when she's ripping you apart in drills, or privately taunting you during KP. None of your filthy thoughts- and memories- are helping her warm up to you, and it's frustrating.

You wish you could quit her.

You wish you could fuck her.

They're two very conflicting feelings.

"You were really good," Berry continues, and her sincere admiration makes you perk up a little. She seems to notice, and, smiling, says, "I think you broke Commander Lopez's record."

At that, you look up in surprise. "What record?"

Berry looks confused as she shoves a forkful of salad greens into her mouth. "You don't know?" she asks, lowering her voice conspiratorially and leaning towards you. At your head shake, she smiles a little deviously. "Commander Lopez has the fastest time for completing the course." You stab a carrot and chew it thoughtfully, imagining Commander Lopez flying through the same obstacles you just did. You wince internally as you imagine her slamming her opponent to the ground and viciously stabbing her pugil stick into their chest without hesitation. It makes you feel sick, but you know firsthand that she can be brutal. You vaguely wonder how many people she's killed, but Berry starts talking again.

"She's the youngest Commander in the entire USND military," she says. "_Ever_." She takes another bite. "Supposedly she went to military academy, and then when she graduated, came straight in as an officer."

You process the information slowly. You'd thought she was young the first day you met her, but you don't really know anything about how long it takes to become what rank. You know she's powerful- she's in charge of overseeing your entire unit's training- but you didn't realize what a big achievement she had attained. But then something occurs to you-

"If she's such a bigshot, why is she _here_? Training _us_? Shouldn't she be out, I don't know- commanding?"

Rachel nods. "She just recently earned her title. I heard this is her last assignment. Supposedly after _we_ finish, she will be deployed somewhere, too."

Fear grips your stomach. You despise Commander Lopez, but for some stupid reason, you also care about her, and you enjoy being near her. As much as you want her sexually, you also crave her company- you just wish she wouldn't be such a bitch to you when she's around. You want her to like you. You want her to recognize your efforts. But you also know, somehow, that if it came down to it, she wouldn't let anyone hurt you, and the thought of her being deployed, _to war_, scares you more than your own impending deployment. You know she can more than handle herself- _understatement-_ but you don't want to think about her being out there, in danger. You're not sure why you feel that way, and maybe you're stupid for doing so, but there's _something_-

Berry must sense your fear, because she says quickly, "She probably won't be deployed with _us._ Goodness, that would be really rotten luck, eh?" She laughs to herself, and then, you watch as she looks longingly in Lieutenant Fabray's direction. "Maybe the Lieutenant…"

You spare yourself a fleeting moment to hope for Lieutenant Fabray to be deployed with your unit, but it doesn't erase your preemptive disappointment, which makes you angry. What the fuck is wrong with you? You shouldn't want to be anywhere near Commander Lopez. She treats you like shit, she picks on you, she humiliates you, she _disqualified_ you over a _technicality_-

Your sudden anger doesn't go unnoticed by Berry, probably because you brutally stab your fork into your chicken, and she asks, "Do you even know why she dislikes you so much?"

You shrug angrily as you eat your chicken. You have no fucking idea. You wish you did, so you could fix it, but you're at a total loss. For a half second you consider telling Berry about your sexual encounters with Commander Lopez. It would probably get her discharged, ruin her career and ultimately her life. You'd definitely have the last laugh-

But you'd feel guilty. You're not that spiteful. (And also a tiny part of you wants to keep your experiences secret, to keep them all for yourself.)

"Well, maybe you should find out."

You stare hard at Berry, her off-handed suggestion making you pause in your thoughts. "What do you mean?"

Berry shrugs, shaking her head, and rushes to explain. "I just meant, perhaps you should confront her about her reasons for treating you so poorly. What's the worst that could happen?" She shrugs again. "You're already being punished on a daily basis. It really can't get much worse for you- a-and it might get _better_."

You nod absently as Lieutenant Fabray calls for the end of dinner, and come to a solemn decision: the next time Commander Lopez pushes your buttons, you're going to challenge her.

* * *

The next morning, you wake up to the sound of your barracks door slamming shut.

_"Up,_ Pierce," Commander Lopez sneers, snapping on the overhead light, and you groan and push yourself up on your elbows, blinking at the blinding light.

It takes you a minute to adjust, but once you do, you become very aware of the tent in your shorts. You sigh, dropping your gaze to your raging hard-on, and hope Commander Lopez hasn't seen it yet. You want her to suck you off, but you're not sure you want to give her the satisfaction of controlling you in that way today. You're still not over the indignity of being disqualified yesterday, and you won't be all day, because you have to re-take your PT/C test again later today, per the Lieutenant's request. The last thing you want is to succumb to your desires.

"Again?" Commander Lopez sneers, and you look up to find her staring at your hard-on through your sleep shorts. There's no use trying to hide it, so instead you glare at her in return and get up to start gathering your spare uniform to wear back to the barracks.

"I can't exactly control it," you mutter, your cheeks burning, and you feel anger forming again as you snatch up your compression shorts. You can't put them back on with a boner. _Fuck_. Is this _really_ how today is going to start?

Commander Lopez laughs. "What, Pierce, is your girlfriend back home a prude?" You don't answer. Instead, you tug your sleep shirt over your head, keeping your back to her, and slip on your uniform shirt. At your silence, she taunts, laughing, "Did you even _have_ a girlfriend? Wait- were you a virgin? That would explain why you come so _quickly."_

Her words sting, and you try to grit your teeth and ignore them. You remember your decision from last night and swallow.

"Fuck, you were a _virgin,_ weren't you? _Fuck._ I hope this doesn't mean you're going to follow _me_ around like a dog for the rest of your life. You're pathetic _enough-"_

Growling, you turn suddenly, balling your fists. "What the fuck is your _problem?"_ you demand angrily. You step forward, trying to intimidate her, and for a second she looks hurt, but you block her expression from your mind in favor of letting your simmering anger out. "Why do you pick on _me_ all the time? Why do you get some kind of enjoyment from torturing me?" You shove her to punctuate, and regret the move the instant your hand hits her shoulder; she grabs the inside of your wrist and twists outward, and in two seconds slams you face-first against the wall, twisting your arm behind your back. You grunt and she pulls up hard, making your shoulder scream in pain. Her other hand goes to the back of your head, smashing your face against the cool, smooth wall. She has you pinned, but the worst part is that you can feel your rock hard dick pressed against your stomach, and her body against your back isn't helping it go down.

"You think I pick on you, Pierce, _huh_?" she hisses near your ear. You can feel her breasts against your shoulder blades, and your dick throbs in response. "That I _like_ it?"

"Why don't you pick on _Rose_?" You pant against the wall, trying to jerk your wrist out of her solid grip. "She can barely finish PT- _agh_-" you cry out as she puts more pressure on your arm.

You half-expect her to laugh, but she doesn't. Her voice is low and serious as she spits, "You want to know why I don't pick on Rose? I'll _tell_ you: because when faced with her enemy, I know Rose won't hesitate to fucking _stab him_. Wilde, Chang, even that hobbit, Berry- _all_ of them have the instinct to _fight._ To survive. But you, Pierce? With your _ideals_ and your head in some fucking fantasyland? You'll crumble. When faced with fight or flight, you'll choose flight _every single time_. _You'll_ let that bastard walk away, and then he'll get up and shoot someone like Rose in the _face_ without hesitation. Because of _you."_ She punctuates her sentence with a sharp kick to your foot, knocking you off balance, and in one swift movement, she drops you to the ground.

You sprawl onto your back, glaring and panting, and she shakes her head.

"You have no fucking business in the military," Commander Lopez snarls. You want to argue that you never _chose_ to be here, you were _forced_, but one look at your Commander's expression makes you pause. She looks- conflicted. And angry, but not at you. It confuses you, and you swallow your retort. The silence is deafening, and the tension between you is palpable as you lie there and wait for her to say or do something. You're not sure what to say or do, yourself.

Finally, Commander Lopez seems to come back to herself, and she stares at you with an unreadable expression. Then, silently, she turns on her heel and leaves.

* * *

Commander Lopez doesn't show up for your second chance at passing your PT/C final. You're both relieved and disappointed. You reluctantly make sure to touch the end of your pugil stick to Rose's chest when you knock her down with only half the ferocity you used on your first test. You finish with a time of 6:33, nearly double your first time, and you can't even bring yourself to care. It's still a good time- not the best in the company, but not the worst- and you at least passed. But the spark that had been driving you to finish the fastest, to be the best, seems to have left you and you can't figure out why.

Is it because Commander Lopez isn't there? You always hated the way she pushed you to do better, but maybe you _needed_ that. You start second-guessing yourself- had the Commander been right about you? Were you lazy?

Worse- were you going to get your comrades killed?

* * *

**Hmmmm…. the plot thickens! There will be tons of smut in the next chapter, as well as some more plot advancement, so hopefully I'll see you all tomorrow or whenever.**

**Review if you're the reviewing type. I'll be here.**

**In parting, I'd like to say: FUCK DANTANA. BRITTANA IS REAL. And BRITTANA FOR FUCKING EVER, MOTHERFUCKERS! I'LL SHIP THEM FROM MY FUCKING GRAVE!**


	7. Risk

**A/N:** Well, hi there. We've gotta stop meeting each other like this. ;)

Thank all you lovely people for reading and reviewing or reading and not reviewing, or not reading and reviewing, but not _not_ reading and _not_ reviewing, because that's just confusing. Even for me.

Lots of smut in this chapter, so. Hope you like dicks. Or something. I don't know. D:

Thanks to my boo, **crammit,** for pushing the Pieberry friendship.

* * *

You're barely asleep when you feel fingers in your hair. You're surprised at first by the softness of the touch, but as you slide your eyes open wearily, the touch grows rougher, the fingers tightening to grip your hair more firmly. It takes you a second to realize what's going on- it's still dark, but you can clearly see the outline of your Commander above you.

She's straddling your face.

You're hard instantly. You can smell her arousal, and despite the darkness, you can see the wetness coating her sex, and you groan, both in longing and in protest. You want her- that's completely obvious, based on your body's immediate reaction to her proximity- but you're understandably hesitant to succumb to her control so readily. You're mad at her, but she's still so _hot_. It makes resisting her nearly impossible, especially when she wordlessly lowers herself to your mouth and rolls her hips a little, rubbing herself against your lips.

Your dick throbs, and you open your mouth obediently to accept her offering. Your tongue darts out and you can't withhold your moan of pleasure as you taste her for the first time. You reach to hold her thighs instinctively, craning your neck up to get closer. Almost immediately, she pulls away and removes your hands, pinning them above your head. You're completely at her mercy as she once again forces her dripping sex into your mouth.

"Yeah, that's it," she purrs, and you can hear her breath hitching as she grinds her clit against your tongue. You're still not sure if you want to resist or not, because she tastes so good and even though you hate the fact that she's got you pressed to the bed, that _she's_ still in control, you can't help thinking about how completely hot it is that she's currently riding your face. You want to make her break her control, and maybe you can do it with your mouth.

You tease your tongue along her slit, moaning again at the abundance of wetness that's practically dripping from her entrance. You dip your tongue just barely into her, feeling her thighs clench around you, and you grin as you feel her grip on your wrists shifting, and one of her hands clutches your hair again, holding your head still.

"I sucked _you_ off, Pierce, now you're going to return the fucking favor," she growls, her breath heavy, her voice raspy. She moves her hips so her clit is against your lips, and thrusts them a little in encouragement. "Now _do_ _it_."

You can't resist. You've decided. You open your mouth, wrap your lips around the hard little nub and suck, determined to make her moan out loud. You can feel her shaking against your face, and you know she's struggling not to show how much she's enjoying your mouth on her. You're enjoying it, too- your cock is painfully hard in your shorts, and if your hands weren't still in your Commander's strong grip, you'd probably be fucking your hand. The thought makes you groan again. Your dick is aching- you know you've already leaked a stream of precum in your shorts. You buck your hips up slightly, almost against your will, and your Commander lifts up slightly, pulling her throbbing clit out of your mouth.

"Did you like coming down my throat?" she hisses between heavy pants for air. You swallow, tasting nothing but her. Your chin is covered in her wetness, and you clench your hands into fists. "_Answer_ _me_, Pierce."

"Yes, Commander," you gasp, and you feel her shiver. She likes the power, you know she does. In your shorts, your cock twitches in response to her obvious arousal.

"Good," she says lowly, and you can practically hear her smirking. "Because I'm about to come down _yours_. Give me your fucking tongue." Without thought, you stick your tongue out, and immediately you feel her press her hard clit against it. Her hips buck. "Don't move," she orders, but she sounds breathless, and the rasp in her voice is enough to make you whimper. You're so turned on you know it would take maybe one pump of your hand to get yourself off. You keep your head still as Commander Lopez rides your tongue, her hips moving faster and faster. You can feel her hand tightening in your hair, but other than her heavy breathing through her clenched teeth, she's completely silent.

You can't see her face, but you can remember how it looked when she came on your cock weeks ago. The memory makes you throb again, hard, and rock your hips up, desperate for some sort of friction. You hope maybe your shorts will give you some, but they don't. After a few torturous moments, though, Commander Lopez's movements grow a lot more erratic, and you can tell she's close. You debate sucking her clit- just to try and get a sound out of her- but you know if you disobey her, she's going to retaliate and you're just too painfully turned on to take any more torture. You let her continue to use your tongue, and after a few more jerky thrusts, you feel even more wetness on your chin. She presses her sex to you, and you can hardly breathe, but you half-think you wouldn't mind suffocating this way.

She comes silently, her body shaking above you, her hips jerking against your face, and you groan. You imagine breaking her grip on your hands, wrapping your arms under her thighs and slamming her down on the bed, then driving your rock-hard cock into her tight entrance- she's smaller than you, and you could probably overpower her in her post-orgasmic state. She's so wet; the thought of parting her slick, soft folds and pushing into her heat, of feeling her clasping your dick-

You can't take it. You've been thinking of fucking her again for weeks now, but just as you resign to take her, she moves smoothly off of you, and you lie, panting as you stupidly watch her step into her panties and tug them up her smooth, toned legs. You sit up and wipe the wetness off your chin, licking your lips. The taste and smell of her is all over you, and all you can think about is how desperately you want to get off.

Apparently, Commander Lopez notices it, too. "Wanna take care of that, Pierce?" she sneers, and you don't even have the presence of mind to be angry at her for once again making you feel embarrassed about your erection. All you can think about is your release. You reach for your shorts.

"No- _get up_," Commander Lopez snaps. You know better than to argue, so you scramble up out of bed. "On your knees," she says, and you drop quickly, ignoring the slight pain as your bare skin hits the concrete floor. You're trembling. You drop your gaze to your dick. You can see the small wet spot on your shorts from your precum. The sight makes you groan.

You want Commander Lopez. You want to come inside her again. You want her mouth on you. You want _all_ of it- but as she walks around out of your sight, you have a feeling you're not going to get that. You swallow, unsure what to expect.

You're completely surprised by the feeling of her right hand gently grabbing yours from behind, and by the unexpected burst of butterflies the action causes in your stomach. Tingles erupt over your skin as her left hand reaches to tug your shorts down and her fingertips brush over your bare hip. Your shorts drop to your knees, exposing your thick cock to the cool night air, and your Commander guides your trembling right hand to wrap around your pulsing shaft.

"Now," she breathes in your ear from behind you, and a fresh explosion of tingles shoot through you from the feeling of her hot breath against your skin, "_slowly_. Draw it out… I want to see." She nibbles on your earlobe, and you gasp, feeling your cock twitch in your hand.

You're pretty sure you're still dreaming.

You struggle to comply with Commander Lopez's demand. You can feel the Commander pressed against your back, and her left hand is still on your hip. All you want to do is pump your shaft fast and hard until you come all over your hand- but you also know that your Commander is watching you, and taking her pleasure from watching you get yourself off. It sends a thrill through you, and for a second you feel like _you're_ in control. You wrap your fingers gently around your cock and stroke yourself, releasing a low groan at the shocks of pleasure that travel through you.

The head of your dick is glistening with clear fluid, and you rub your palm over it, hissing at how _good_ it feels to touch yourself. You smear the wetness over you to use as lubrication for your hand, and bite your lip. Fuck. You aren't going to last long. You're already shaking, and you can feel your orgasm building just from touching yourself.

"Look at how hard you are," your Commander taunts in your ear. You hate that it excites you further. "You must've liked sucking me off." You swallow. You can still _taste_ her- "Huh, Pierce? Tell me."

"Y-yeah, Commander," you manage through your heavy breathing. You force your hand to go slow, to keep the pressure light. It's driving you crazy. You're not sure you can even last much longer.

It doesn't help when you feel the Commander's left hand slide up under your shirt, up over the warm skin on your ribs, to your breast. She cups your left one in her hand and squeezes gently, and when her thumb brushes your nipple, you buck your hips forward involuntarily in response, thrusting your cock into your fist. You think you hear Commander Lopez curse in your ear, but your mind's getting fuzzy, and you can feel your orgasm building too quickly. You try and slow back down, but you're too desperate.

"Do you wanna come, Pierce?" your Commander breathes against your neck, and you can feel her soft, plump lips brush against your skin. It sends another throb of pleasure to your dick and you nod furiously, gasping as you pump your shaft. You're so close to exploding. You want to come so _bad_-

"What was that?" she demands in a silky purr, and you rush to answer.

"Please, Commander," you gasp, too desperate to feel ashamed. "_Please_. I can't-"

You hear her chuckle lowly in your ear, and you shudder as she squeezes your breast in her warm hand. You wait for her to tell you something, _anything_, but she remains silent and you squeeze your eyes closed, willing yourself not to come yet. Not until she says-

"Do it, Pierce- make yourself come for me," Commander Lopez whispers, and you obey instantly, fucking your hand faster. You moan at the relieving pleasure, and after two hard thrusts into your hand, you feel yourself coming hard, your muscles tensing. Your hips lock and you watch as thick strings of white fluid squirt from the tip of your dick, covering your hand as you pump it furiously, rubbing the liquid all over yourself and enjoying the slippery feeling. You whimper, shaking violently, and watch as your come leaks onto the floor, your cock still jerking in your hand as you ride out your orgasm. You gasp for breath and curl forward, squeezing at the head of your dick and coaxing the last few drops of your come from the tip of it, and listen as Commander Lopez moves behind you. Your legs feel like jelly and you sink down from your knees, giving your thighs a rest.

When you finally catch your breath, you look up to see the Commander, completely dressed in her uniform. She meets your eyes for a second before looking away, and you swallow.

"Make sure you clean that up," she says, but without her usual venom, and her tone surprises you. You ponder the sudden change as she exits. You feel exhausted from your intense orgasm, both physically and mentally. You lick your lips and shiver.

You can still taste her.

* * *

Week seven finally finds you on Fire Guard shift, which is just fine with you, since you're out camping with your company and can't really sneak away, should you wake up with a hard-on. Not that it matters- everyone's in full battle uniform for FTX, which means you're in your compression shorts, so a boner wouldn't be _that_ noticeable, but it would certainly be painful. You like the quiet of being on Fire Guard- at least, for the two hours that your shift lasts. It gives you time to think and be alone.

You're posted at the edge of camp, watching for- well, you're not quite sure _what_ you're watching for. You're technically still on your military base's grounds, so it's not like there's _wild people_ or _enemies_ out there. Then again, Fire Guard isn't about enemies- it's about making sure the camp doesn't catch fire. You cast a glance over your shoulder and find the small fire in the center of camp barely glowing, its embers low and crackling. Around it, the rest of your company lie in various states of rest, curled up against their backpacks. You wonder if this is how life is going to be for the short amount of time you'll still be alive, and hope that wherever you're stationed, there are no _Wildes_. You hope your new unit likes you. You'll miss Berry, and maybe even Lieutenant Fabray, but-

The sound of a twig snapping nearby instantly puts you on high alert. You bring your rifle around to _ready_ position and strain to listen for any more sound. You know it was probably just a squirrel- maybe a nighttime squirrel- or something, but you should investigate just in case, right?

You climb to your feet and carefully move towards the sound, wondering if you should alert the other girl on Fire Guard, but then you decide against it. You don't want her to think you're a coward, especially if it turns out to _actually_ just be a squirrel.

You take a few more steps, searching the darkness. The glow of the fire from your camp doesn't penetrate the woods ahead of you, so your sight is limited as you move forward, keeping your "rifle ready and your steps steady."

Something hard and cold presses to your neck, and you realize immediately that it's a tactical knife. You feel a presence on your right, and a familiar smell invades your nose; instantly you know Commander Lopez is trying to catch you off guard. You swing the butt of your rifle to your right, hoping to show her that you're ready for an ambush, that you can defend yourself, but she pushes down on it and your swing hits the ground. You drop your rifle to hang from its sling across your shoulder as the Commander twirls away, brandishing her tactical knife.

You see the knife mere inches before it hits you, and you have seconds to react, relying on muscle memory you didn't know you had as you evade the knife, catch the Commander's wrist and lunge forward to slam into her shoulder. You hit her hard, pushing her back into a nearby tree trunk, gripping her wrist with your right hand and her tactical vest with your left. She drops the knife and you barely hear it hit the ground over the sound of your heart pounding in your veins.

Breathing hard, you glare at each other for a long moment before her lips turn up into a smirk and you realize what just happened. The entire fight lasted less than a minute, but your adrenaline is surging through your veins and you're in utter disbelief that you just managed to overpower your Commander.

Slowly, you release her. It's completely silent, meaning your tussle was quiet enough that it didn't alert the rest of your company, and you pause a moment to reflect on how you basically did the entire fight on autopilot. You didn't even think about it. You're worried about this new development and how it affects you, about how you just slipped into _warrior mode_ almost against your will- but at the same time, you're also damn proud of yourself for managing to prove yourself to the Commander.

Finally.

You look up to find her eyes, and notice she's staring at you. Her brown eyes are dark, and she's still wearing a smirk on her lips. She's close- close enough for you to smell the shampoo she uses on her dark hair, which is pulled up into a ponytail. You lick your lips, and can't help but think about kissing her again. You know she won't let you- and you're definitely not in the mood to have her hitting you- but you still want to. You want to feel her full lips pressed against yours, you want to suck on her bottom one- bite it maybe- and swipe your tongue across it, and against hers-

You swallow as you realize you're starting to get hard, which is _awful_, because you're wearing compression shorts. You shift your weight, unsure what to say and even more unsure what to do. You suppose you could just try to hold out until after Fire Guard, and then try and ignore the dull throbbing of arousal between your legs and sleep. You haven't been able to get off since you'd done so in front of Commander Lopez, and you're feeling a little frustrated. And _shit,_ now that you're thinking about getting yourself off, you can feel your dick hardening even further in your pants. You bite your lip.

You're surprised when, silently, Commander Lopez reaches for your belt buckle. You look up with wide eyes, finding that same sneaky smirk on her lips, but you don't question her. You can't. If you speak, you'll bring attention to yourself- and now that Commander Lopez is unbuttoning your BDUs enough to get her hand inside, you feel yourself getting even harder. Your heartbeat quickens at the thought of her getting on her knees to service you. You barely stifle your sudden gasp and low groan as you feel her cup your growing bulge through your compression shorts. You watch as she carefully pushes the waistband of the tight garment down enough to guide your cock free, and you can't help the way you twitch with desire as her fingers touch you for the first time. Her palm is soft but calloused as it wraps around your shaft, and you struggle to breathe as she begins to pump you at a steady pace.

You can't believe this is happening. Commander Lopez is giving you a handjob, literally a few yards away from the rest of your company. Every time you've done something with the Commander, it's been in the privacy of the abandoned barracks- though you'd secretly fantasized about doing it in other places. But now, you're in the open woods. You could get discovered at any time. You're in extreme danger of getting caught if you make too much noise, and you vaguely wonder if the Commander worries about keeping her job. Is she not worried about ruining her career? Or is she such hot shit that she can do whatever she wants and not face any penalties for it?

The Commander's smooth, steady pace has you building up to your orgasm quickly. You alternate watching her face, and the way she's watching herself stroke you, and watching the way her hand moves up and down the length of you. She twists her wrist, sending bursts of pleasure ripping through you, and when she squeezes the head of your dick you find yourself sighing. She doesn't stop her relentless pace, and you know when you come, it's going to be hard. You can't believe how close you are already. You reach out blindly to steady yourself against a nearby tree. You feel like you need to hold onto something, because you're going to-

Boots crunching on dead leaves makes your stomach sink, and the Commander stops stroking you, but doesn't stop touching you. You can't see who's approaching from behind you, but Commander Lopez, who's facing you, can.

"Pierce, I just- oh." You hear the girl snap to attention. "Commander Lopez," she addresses seriously, and you don't recognize her voice. You bite your lip, because Commander Lopez still has her hand on you. You can't help but watch, heart pounding, as she trails her fingertips lightly up your shaft, making your cock jerk.

"Corazon," Commander Lopez snaps. "Why are you away from camp?"

"I just wanted to inform Pierce that I was going to use the toilet, Commander."

"Where's your _buddy,_ Corazon?" Commander Lopez demands. She rubs the palm of her hand over the tip of your dick, and you bite your lip harder.

"Sleeping, Commander."

You're sure the Commander is going to lay into Corazon for trying to leave the immediate safety of camp to use the portable potty that's set up a few yards away from the edge, and you pray she doesn't. You just want Corazon gone as quickly as possible. You're so worried she's going to figure out that you're currently getting a handjob from the Commander, and if she does, it will put both of your lives in jeopardy. You wonder why the Commander _isn't_ more worried- because she's still pumping you at an agonizingly slow pace, and it both terrifies and excites you. You try not to thrust your hips, keeping your body stiff and rigid, as if you're at attention, while the Commander continues to talk to Corazon.

You don't listen to what they're saying. Instead, you watch the way Commander Lopez's tan hand moves up and down your cock. You wish she'd go just a little bit faster-

You hear leaves crunching again as Corazon leaves, and you let the breath you'd unknowingly been holding out slowly. Once Corazon is out of sight, Commander Lopez smirks again, and her pace doubles. She strokes you fast and hard, and within seconds, you're swelling in her hand and heat flashes in your stomach. You come hard, watching as your come shoots out of you to land on the leaves near your boots. The Commander holds your pulsing cock steady as you shudder for long moments, and as you begin to calm down, she releases you, reaching into the pocket of her BDUs to pull out a small handtowel. She wipes your come from her wrist, and then wordlessly hands the towel to you. Swallowing, you clean yourself off and fix your compression shorts.

Nervously, you go to hand the towel back to her.

She just smirks.

* * *

It's the next day, and you're walking with Berry to the mess to pick up lunch for the rest of your company, who are still out in the fields. Berry had been assigned to KP by the Lieutenant, and you'd been chosen to accompany her to the mess- _buddy system_- based on the fact that you're the most fit girl in the company. Everyone left behind was doing PT drills before lunch.

You walk beside Berry in a daze. You've been kind of in a dreamy state, lost in thought over Commander Lopez's recent behavior towards you. You wonder if maybe she's finally beginning to tolerate you. She hasn't picked on you since you confronted her last week, and you finally managed to prove that you're not worthless. You disarmed the Commander when she attacked you, and the way she looked at you-

You smile. Maybe by the time you graduate in three weeks, you and the Commander could actually be-

Berry yanks you out of your thoughts, literally. She grabs your arm and pulls you over to a nearby building and around the corner, crouching down.

You point out, "this isn't the mess-" but Berry shushes you. You mimic her position.

"-about her?" Commander Lopez asks stoically, and you peek into the window to find her respectfully standing behind a desk. On the other side of the desk is a man in a wheelchair. The front of his uniform is decorated with gleaming medals, and the stripes on his shoulder tell you that he's a Captain.

Commander Lopez's boss.

You listen hard as he continues talking, trying to catch the conversation and why Berry dragged you over to begin with.

"-reports on the recruits are mostly promising. Except for one: Pierce. Is she really as you've portrayed her?"

Your stomach sinks as Commander Lopez's clear voice says, "She's _incompetent,_ Captain. Truly, she will harm us more than help."

"Is there no salvaging her? We need numbers, Commander. Every soldier counts- it's why we reinstated the the draft in the first place."

"With all due respect, Captain- I _will_ give you numbers, but _not_ numbers to _die_. She hasn't a warrior's instinct. She's _weak_. Sending her out there would be an embarrassment to our military-"

You've heard enough.

Seething, you turn away, feeling hurt and betrayed. You can't believe Commander Lopez could call you weak to _her superior_. You're _not_ weak. Sure, you don't like to kill, and okay, so maybe you don't think you could ever willingly take a life if it weren't absolutely necessary. But you thought you'd proved yourself in the woods. You may not have the warrior instinct that Zises has, but you're definitely not as big of a pansy as the Commander is making you out to be to the Captain. And besides, there are plenty of other jobs you could do that don't involve combat, aren't there? You could pump gas for the tanks, or-

You slam your fist against the building in anger as you storm away. That _bitch_. That fucking entitled, arrogant, manipulative-

"Pierce, wait!" Berry calls, rushing to catch up with you. "I'm _sorry_. I heard your name, and- well, I thought maybe…" She trails off, unsure of what to say. But what _can_ she say? She heard the Commander just as clearly as you did.

You want to reassure Berry that it's not her fault, but your throat has closed up from how devastated you feel. You don't necessarily care about looking good to the Captain. You don't care about advancing your rank, or your military career. You're mostly upset that your Commander- a woman you have some type of feelings for, though you're unsure as to what, exactly, they are- could talk so negatively about you to a complete stranger. You know, now, that Commander Lopez doesn't feel _anything_ towards you. You were a fool to think otherwise. You were a fool to hope for anything more. You feel sick.

You were a fool to pretend Commander Lopez could harbor any kind of feelings for you.

She's made that perfectly clear, now- hasn't she?

* * *

**Yikes! **

**Okay, well, review if you feel like it! If not, then don't!**

**Gotta go, Korra is on! AHH!**

**BRITTANA FOREVER!**

**AND NOW A WORD FROM ~OFFICER SAFETY:**

**Don't have sex in the woods. **

**Spiders live there. **

**Just imagine them crawling on you, falling on your junk, or even just plain watching you with their eight eyes from the shadows. I CAN'T EVEN. UGH. **

**If that's not enough to deter you, then I can't save you. D:**

**STAY SAFE AND PLAY SAFE! **

**See you soon! **


	8. Fool

**A/N:** Hello, all! Sorry for the delay. I take weekends off from writing. Most of this chapter was done yesterday, but I didn't get around to finishing it until today. So here it is! :D

There's only two or three more chapters left, and maybe an epilogue, so I'm hoping this story will be finished by Friday. :)

For those of you asking about the NSG one-shot I planned, **Frolis**, it's in the works! It's almost finished, so I'm hoping to have it up by Monday. So stay tuned for that- you know, if NSG is your thing! ;)

Thanks once again to my boo, **crammit**, for naming the bar in this chapter after a tactical knife brand. You're the best, bb! :') BTW, have you all read her fic, **The Only Choice**? Not only is it fluffy and interesting, but it's hella smutty, too. If you're looking for a sweet Brittana story, go give it a read and show her some love, okay? :D Great, thanks.

Also, for those of you that missed it- Lighthouse (**NegativeSpaces**) and I (but mostly her) wrote a collaboration fic! We filled a GKM prompt ~together. You can find the story, **Pedestal**, on her FFN account, or get the link from her tumblr **chaoticspaces** or mine **xandylytex** or under the **SUMOSMU** tag.

You could also search the meme itself buuut I feel like that's opening yourself up to a whole lot of things you can never unsee if you get lost along the way.

Anyways, if you like/are curious about hardcore BDSM (roflroflrofl) you should totally check it out! Just be warned, it's intense!

And now, the chapter you've all been waiting for! (kind of…)

* * *

You haven't seen Commander Lopez since you overheard her conversation with the Captain a week ago. Your heart aches, which surprises you. You didn't think you'd miss her, but you do. You're still hurt and completely upset that she essentially made you out to be a fuck-up, but even as upset as you are, you still want to see her. Really, you're just a sad panda, and the only person that can make you un-sad is Commander Lopez, but you know that's not true either. The Commander doesn't even know you heard her talking to the Captain- she doesn't even know you're sad. She hasn't seen you, but even if she had, you know she wouldn't apologize.

"Let's go out," Berry says from the bunk next to you. She's perched on her bed, staring at you expectantly. You're lying on your back, with your arms folded behind your head, staring up at the support beams for the bed above you, which is unoccupied. You'd been lost in thought, thinking about Commander Lopez- again. Berry's been trying to unsuccessfully convince you to go out to KA-BAR, the on-base dive bar, for the last five minutes.

"Come on, Pierce," Berry persists. "It's our free night. The only one we get before graduation. The only one we get before we're _deployed_. Don't you want to go out and have fun?"

You sigh. You're not really in the mood to have fun, but Berry is right. It's your only night to wander around base unsupervised. You can't leave the training grounds- can't give recruits the opportunity to _desert_, after all- but KA-BAR is allowed. The bar, which is mostly for the permanently stationed personnel, like the Lieutenant, stands on the edge of the grounds near the entrance, and most of the girls in your barracks had left for the bar already to enjoy their one free night.

You don't feel like enjoying yourself. You feel the walls around you closing in. You're less than two weeks away from graduation, and, consequently, deployment. You're less convinced that you're going to die on the battlefield after your takedown of Commander Lopez. She and the Lieutenant have trained you to access your _warrior_ side- almost unknowingly. It both scares you and reassures you, but you don't dare hope that it's enough to survive until the war is over. You'd heard the rumors about what went on over there- with the _wild people_. You knew your only way home was in a box.

You're also feeling the pressure on your heart- the fact that you're less than two weeks away from separation from Commander Lopez. On the one hand, you feel that it might be best; at least then you won't be able to develop more feelings. Because so far, feelings for your Commander had done nothing but cause you pain and heartache, and you're really over feeling that. On the other hand, though, the thought of being parted from Commander Lopez terrifies you. You'd initially thought you wanted her to protect you, but now that you know you're capable of fighting- and that you're _excellent_ at it- _you_ want to protect _her_. You can't do that if she's not near you. You care about her- whether she deserves it or not, whether she returns the feelings or not. You don't want to see her harmed. And you especially don't want to be separated from her.

She may not even like you, but you can't help liking her, despite everything.

But your time is running out, on all clocks.

"Please, Pierce?" Berry has resorted to begging now, and you're close to caving. You don't want to go, but you know she does, and you also know she doesn't want to go alone. You know she's hoping the Lieutenant will be there; you think maybe she idolizes her or something, since she basically worships the ground she walks on, you're not sure. (You hope she and the Lieutenant don't have the kind of relationship you have with Commander Lopez- at least, for Berry's sake.) You can't really blame her. The Lieutenant is beautiful, powerful, and fair.

But she's not Commander Lopez.

You swallow. Berry's been a good friend, and she's helped you no matter what. The least you can do is accompany her to KA-BAR, right? And maybe a drink or two- or ten- might make your thoughts go away.

Sighing, you sit up, and Berry claps excitedly and squeals. It makes you smile. You're glad that despite all the training, Berry has managed to retain her personality. She hasn't allowed herself to be changed or warped. As she starts talking excitedly about all the possibilities KA-BAR has to offer and rattling off the features she read in a pamphlet she somehow acquired- yeah, you're not sure about that, either- you reach for your service dress uniform and slip into your coat.

You hope you can find some relief.

* * *

KA-BAR is a bad idea.

You realize as soon as you and Berry step up to the bar and see Wilde, Rose, and a group of their lackeys standing in a menacing mob against the long, wooden bartop that you probably shouldn't have come. Your thoughts race and your heart pounds as you decide to make a quick escape, but then it's too late.

Wilde sees you.

"Oh, hey, Stupid," Wilde calls, and you feel your anger flare immediately. Beside her, Rose and another girl both laugh, and you clench your jaw- and your fist. "Show your coin," she demands, holding her palm out to reveal a large disc, engraved with decorative military symbols. You think you spot wings before she snatches her hand back with a smirk.

"Lay off, Kitty, you know she doesn't have one," Rose sneers. You're confused. What is that coin? Why don't you have one?

"Then why is she here?" Wilde demands venomously, glaring at you. You swallow. "She doesn't belong here."

"Yeah- why _are_ you here, Stupid?" the girl on the other side of Wilde asks you confrontationally. You're unsure what to respond with, taken aback by the girls' hostility. You debate just turning right around and leaving, because the last thing you want is to cause any trouble, but Berry speaks up next to you.

"Be quiet; you can't talk to her like that. Commander Lopez made it _very_ clear that-"

"Do you see Commander Lopez around here, Berry?" Wilde sneers, spreading her arms. "Because _I_ _don't_. I just see two pathetic losers who are _painfully_ out of place."

"Yeah," the girl on the other side of Wilde agrees. You don't bother to read her nametag.

"I don't see a sign determining who can and can't be here," Berry argues, glaring.

"Do you always let your _bitch_ fight for you, Pierce?" Wilde asks, directing the hostility back to you. You swallow. You've never been good with words, but what can you really say anyways? None of it will shut Wilde or her lackeys up.

"Get real, Kitty," the nameless girl says with a laugh.

Wilde laughs, too. "Right, Pierce, I forgot- _you're_ probably _Berry's_ bitch."

"Oh, grow up," Berry huffs, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms. You feel your pulse racing faster at Wilde's words, and you want to say something- anything- in response. You wish you had the sharp wit of your Commander, but-

"What's the matter, Pierce?" Rose teases meanly. "Kitty got your tongue?"

"Ew, Marley- gross!" Nameless girl giggles, shoving Rose. Wilde hasn't taken her murderous glare from you. You return it, clenching your jaw even tighter. Especially when Wilde takes a slow, intimidating step forward. She's shorter than you, and you know that, physically, you're stronger. But you don't have the killer instinct she does, and-

"Get out of here," Wilde tells you, her voice low and deadly.

You stare at her angrily. You don't want to submit, but at the same time, it's not worth getting into a fight over. You don't want to cause a scene. You're close to graduation, and hopefully close to never having to see Wilde again. The last thing you need is more punishment, though for a fleeting second you think maybe if you get in trouble you'll see Commander Lopez again.

Your stomach sinks. No. It would be better if you didn't see her again.

You take a step back, resigning to Wilde's demand. The smirk on her lips almost makes you change your mind, especially when she raises her eyebrows meaningfully in triumph. You take another step back in response, and then, something unexpected happens.

Someone shoves you forward.

You stumble into Wilde, who immediately yells in protest. She puts her palms on your shoulders and shoves you off of her.

"That's a _mistake_, Pierce!" Rose taunts, and then seconds later, Wilde's arm swings and something hits you in the head- _hard_- dropping you to your knee. Glass shatters, and you feel searing pain in your right temple. It takes you a second to realize that Wilde smashed a beer bottle on your head. You can feel warm blood dripping down the right side of your face, and cold, foul-smelling liquid soaking into the collar and front of your uniform jacket. Your head is pounding with pain, your vision is blurry, and you're bleeding- but you can feel adrenaline flooding your system. Adrenaline and pain.

And anger.

With a growl, you spring up from the floor and tackle Wilde around the waist, slamming her back into a barstool. You feel her claw at your shoulder, but your jacket protects from her nails. You can hear girls' voices screaming- "Fight! Fight!", "Get her, Wilde!", "Beat her ass, Pierce!"- and you can vaguely tell that the bar has erupted into a sort of chaos, with mini-fights breaking out around you, but all you can focus on is driving your fist into Wilde's ribs repeatedly.

Hands grab at your shoulders, pulling you back and off of Wilde, and you resist. Someone hits you in the head again, and automatically, you raise your hands up, hearing Commander Lopez in the back of your mind, triggering your training.

("_Hands up, Pierce! Protect your head!_")

You block Wilde's swings easily, hunkering down and keeping your arms up. Rose comes at you, too, her eyes wild with anger, and you briefly hope Berry had enough good sense to stay out of this brawl, the last thing you want is for her to get hurt-

You take a hard hit to your stomach, but it hurts in a background sort of way thanks to your abs. You're not even sure who you're fighting anymore, you're just engaging whoever's dumb enough to attack you. No- that's not right. It's Wilde who attacked you first. You zone in on her, finding her nose bleeding and her left eye swollen shut, and you're impressed at your own handiwork.

She's gritting her teeth, snarling at you in rage. The blood from her nose is covering her mouth and chin, making her look creepy and disgusting, and you know if you weren't in _warrior_ mode you'd probably feel sick.

But you don't. All you feel is anger. She had _no fucking reason_ to pick on you. All you ever tried to do was help her-

You lower your center of gravity, preparing yourself for Wilde's next attack, when two tanned hands shove Wilde back against the bar. It takes you a second to realize who those hands belong to, but once you do, you feel a jolt of electricity shoot down your spine.

"Playtime's over, pussycat," Commander Lopez growls, shoving Wilde down onto a barstool. Lieutenant Fabray stands beside Rose, holding her in a headlock, and you feel your knees go a little weak at the sound of Commander Lopez's voice after not hearing it for over a week.

You wince as you feel liquid at the corner of your right eye, and instinctively reach up to wipe it away. Your hand comes away red, and you suddenly remember you're still bleeding.

"Shit, Pierce, she got you good," Lieutenant Fabray comments in surprise, and then she chuckles, making you smile when she adds "But I think you got her _better_."

"Shut it, Lieutenant," Commander Lopez snaps, stilling your smile as you catch sight of her face. You've never seen the Commander look so livid. She's practically vibrating with rage, and the look she's shooting Wilde could burn holes through steel. Over her shoulder, you see Lieutenant Fabray roll her eyes and shoot you a discreet thumbs-up. You smile to yourself, turning your head away so the Commander can't see it.

"What the heck happened here?" Major Beiste exclaims in surprise as she arrives on the scene, and the Commander turns to you as Lieutenant Fabray gives a brief recount of what happened. Her brown eyes look- wounded. She scans your face with great concern, and it makes your stomach flutter and feel sick all at once.

"Clean up, Major," Lieutenant Fabray says as she grabs Wilde by the scruff of the neck and drags her and Rose towards the door. Berry follows at her heels, leaving you standing with the Commander.

You feel like you should say something, but before you can, Commander Lopez grabs your arm roughly. Her warm touch, even through your coat, makes your heart pound. Her familiar scent assaults you and brings heat to your face. "Let's go, Pierce," she says, her tone low and hard for you to place. You swallow as the Commander escorts you by your arm, sure you're about to get the punishment of a lifetime.

It's dark out and you shiver from a mixture of feelings you can't quite grasp as the Commander continues to walk you across the grounds at a steady pace. When you reach the medical building, she releases you for a second to swipe her access card, then grabs your arm again. You wonder why she continues to escort you- you have no intention of going anywhere, and you can walk yourself. But the Commander's tight grip on you is as reassuring as it is terrifying, so you stay silent as she guides you into an empty examining room.

"Sit down," she orders, but not unkindly. Carefully, you lift yourself up to sit on the stainless steel table in the center of the room as she turns to dig through a drawer. When she turns back around, your eyes meet. Hers are soft brown, and it makes your mouth feel suddenly dry. She moves closer, and you're even more aware of her smell; it makes your stomach tighten, and as she moves even closer, you can't help staring at her lips.

Harsh light floods your face as Commander Lopez flicks on a small exam light perched on the end of the table and aims it at your head. Carefully, she reaches forward and unbuttons your uniform jacket, and you swallow at the slow, tender way her fingers work.

When your eyes meet again, you can see concern on her face, and something else. It looks like affection, or adoration, but you're too cautious, too scared to allow yourself to hope that that's what it is. It's a trap. It has to be.

You almost miss when she says, _take this off_, because her voice is so soft. Heart racing, chest feeling tight, you slip the jacket from your shoulders and distractedly fold it, placing it next to you on the table. Then you look at her again.

She's beautiful.

Silently, she reaches up with hands covered in tight, blue latex gloves and takes your chin in her hand. She turns your face gently, and you see her wince as she inspects the cut in your forehead, and then her expression turns angry.

"Wilde's a bitch," she mutters, tilting your head down and running her fingers through the hair near your cut. It soothes and calms you, but also sends tingles across your scalp. You swallow.

"Why are you being so nice?" You blurt, then regret it as her chocolate coffee eyes meet yours again. You stare at each other for a while; you're so confused, and yet, so, so content. You can't help thinking that you _like_ her like this, and that your instinct was right- that she would protect you. It makes your heart hurt in the worst way, and after a few more moments of assessment, the Commander turns away to get a few more things from the drawer. You wait, your pulse still racing from her touch and her smell and her close proximity, your mind still reeling from the fight and your own conflicted feelings.

When the Commander comes back, she cleans and sterilizes your cuts. It stings, but you bite your lip and take it in silence, trying to prove to her how tough you are. Her touch is unexpectedly gentle and lingering, and her face shows genuine regret when she has to put disinfectant on the wounds, as if she knows how much it hurts. You vaguely wonder if she's ever been hit with a beer bottle, but you don't want to ask. You're not sure you actually want to know the answer.

When she's done cleaning your wounds, she reaches for a package of small, sterile bandages. Tenderly, she places one over the biggest cut, gently running her thumb over the tabs to secure it. Her touch practically burns your skin, and you can feel your own blood rushing in your ears. Your eyes meet again, and you can't contain how you feel. Your heart feels like it's going to beat out of your chest, and your stomach is so tight, you feel like you might throw up.

Her eyes are so soft. The way she's looking at you-

You lean forward slowly, your heart pounding with hope, with anticipation, with-

Fingers grip your jaw and turn your head firmly, but not roughly. And you feel your heart breaking, once again, as Commander Lopez murmurs, "Hold still."

Once again, you're crushed. Once again, your Commander rejected you. Once again, you got your hopes up that there could be more to your relationship with Commander Lopez.

Once again, you're a fool.

The Commander finishes pressing the last small round bandage to your forehead and as she bends to put something in a low drawer, you can't help sneaking a glance at her ass in her uniform pants. It's firm and round and you really want to grab it. The thought makes your cock twitch in your compression shorts and you know it's a completely inappropriate time to be hard, but you can't help it; you remember the way it felt being inside her that first time, taking her, and even though you're still really upset and your feelings are all over the place, you can't help but want her.

"Already?" Commander Lopez asks, and you turn your attention to her face to find her smirking, but not meanly. It's a playful smirk, and combined with the soft look in her eyes, it's not helping the state of your arousal. You feel the blush creep up your neck as you process her words, and you immediately drop your gaze to your lap and the obvious bulge there.

Gentle fingers stroke down your cheek and your gaze shoots up in surprise, finding Commander Lopez's eyes, which are dark, but still soft. Like melted chocolate. She cups your face tenderly, and your heart pounds in anticipation. You struggle to withhold your desire to lunge forward and kiss her, but you want to so bad. Her touch has frozen you, though- you can't move. Especially when her thumb traces over your bottom lip. You suck in a ragged breath and half-close your eyes, trembling with restraint.

You won't look like a fool again- no matter how much you want it. You're tired of putting yourself out there, only to be rejected. So you'll keep your feelings to yourself, secretly hoping for Commander Lopez to reveal something- anything- that shows evidence of her caring

Disappointment eats at you as the Commander drops her gaze from yours, and you suck in a sharp breath as you feel her left hand slide over the bulge in your pants. You cant your hips up slightly, whimpering a little as her touch grows firmer, sending sparks of pleasure through your body. You watch as she slowly- lovingly, even- opens your pants, unzipping them, and then carefully shifts your compression shorts down enough to free your hard cock. Her hand is warm as it wraps around your shaft, and you bite your lip as she bends down to kiss the tip of your cock.

You groan in response, especially when her tongue slips out to tease your slit for a moment, gently pumping your shaft. Then she wraps her lips around the head of your dick and sucks deeply, making you gasp. Your hands slam to the cold metal behind you as you struggle to support herself, and keep yourself sitting upright. Her mouth feels so warm and wet encasing you, and you shake from the overwhelming sensation of her smooth tongue flicking across your skin as she sucks.

You can already feel your orgasm building, especially when you feel your Commander's right hand reach for yours. Confused at first, you watch as she guides your hand to her hair, and you can't believe you're touching her. You can't believe Commander Lopez is relinquishing _control_ to you, and as your fingers slide into her silky locks, you moan lowly at your new privilege, feeling your cock harden further in her mouth.

You release moan after desperate moan as the Commander builds you agonizingly slowly but steadily. You can feel every flick of her tongue across the head of your dick; the gentle, sucking pressure of her hot mouth is almost too much to handle, especially when combined with the fact that your left hand is buried in the Commander's hair- not forcing, but just resting there, just guiding her to take more of you. You don't want to betray the trust you've been given. The thought of being in control has made your head fuzzy, and all of the sensations together mixed with your conflicting feelings have you writhing against the steel table, your hips jerking.

Your hand tightens in the Commander's hair as you reach the edge, but it only prompts her to work you faster, and your orgasm hits you hard. Your hips lift from the table as you arch up, spilling your release into Commander Lopez's mouth. You can feel your cock twitching against her velvet tongue as she continues to suck and swallow you, and the sight of her throat moving sends another jolt of pleasure ripping through you.

When Commander Lopez pulls back and straightens up, wiping her mouth discreetly and panting, your feelings hit you full force and your face falls. You'd really loved the fact that you got to hold her head- it was progress, after all, but-

"You shouldn't look so upset after a blowjob," she says, that playful smirk on her face, but her eyes concerned. "What's wrong?"

You shake your head, debating. You don't want to get rejected again, but you're tired of holding in your feelings. She normally doesn't talk to you- in fact, this is probably the first real conversation the two of you have had. So you swallow and admit, "I just- I really want to kiss you."

The Commander's smirk falls, and for a moment you worry she's going to yell at you or punch you, but she's still got that soft look in her eyes as she reaches up to cup your cheek, stroking her thumb over it. The obvious affection makes you lean into her touch, but you can't help the sharp stab of pain in your heart when she says, "Sorry, Pierce. I don't do kisses."

You nod, biting your lip, and sigh. You'd expected that. You'd hoped for different, but her answer wasn't the worst thing she could've said. She didn't say she didn't want to, only that she didn't do them, but what does that even mean? Does she-

You're surprised when you feel her soft lips on your cheek, and you breathe in, inhaling her scent. The warmth of her face sends a shiver down your spine, and you freeze, afraid to breathe, afraid to move and break the fragile moment you're in. You're sure you're going to wake up at any moment.

It's not a kiss. It's not what you want.

But it's _something_.

"Let's get you back," Commander Lopez says quietly, and she moves away. You tuck yourself back into your compression shorts, fix your pants, and stand up. Then you snatch up your coat, which is still slightly damp and reeking of beer, tuck it under your arm and follow her out of the building.

The walk back to your barracks is spent in silence. It's dark, and there's no one out. Everyone's either still at KA-BAR, or they're already in for the night. Your mind is racing with a million questions- what that coin was, what's going to happen to Wilde, where Commander Lopez has been, why she allowed you to finally _touch_ her- but you're not willing to break the comfortable glow that's settled over you by bringing up anything heavy.

When you arrive at your barracks, you reach for Commander Lopez's hand, sliding your fingers between hers, tangling them together before you can think better of it. She doesn't pull away or protest, but simply raises her eyebrows in question.

You swallow, both from the warmth of her hand and the fact that she's allowing you to hold it for whatever precious seconds you have, and smile. "Thank you," you murmur, looking into her eyes, and trying to convey your feelings and your genuineness.

The playful smirk you've come to adore makes another appearance, and you smile wider.

"You're welcome."

* * *

The next day during morning PT, Wilde shows up looking awful. Her eye is puffy and swollen with dark bruises surrounding the tender flesh, her nose has a brace on it, and every time she moves, you can tell she's in pain. On the one hand, it's a little frightening that you were the cause of those injuries, but on the other hand, you're pleased that she won't ever mess with you again. It's not like you _killed_ her.

You run easily through your PT drills, ignoring the hushed, awed whispers from the girls around you, but you don't miss the playful smirk and the secret wink Commander Lopez shoots you when no one's looking.

And you smile.

* * *

**We're almost to the end! Ahhh!**

**What did you guys think? Ya'll think Commander Lopez has some ~secret feelings for Britt?**

**I think a lot of you are on to her… ;)**

**Review if you feel like it! But if not, that's okay! I'll hopefully see you guys tomorrow night, but if not, then definitely Thursday with the next shocking installment! **

**AND NOW A WORD FROM ~OFFICER SAFETY:**

**Getting your dick sucked is awesome. Probably.**

**Getting smashed with a beer bottle is not awesome. Probably. **

**Got it? Dick sucked, awesome. Bottle smashing, not awesome. These are important guidelines for your life. **

**You're welcome.**

**PLAY SAFE AND STAY SAFE!**


	9. Walls

**A/N:** Hello everyone. :) Sorry for the delay. I was in my feels last night, but NEVER FEAR. Brittana is endgame. They are _so on_. Santana said she LOVES Brittany- as in STILL LOVES BRITTANY, PRESENT TENSE. I think that once this Dantana bullshit is over and done with midway through the season, Brittana will be back on. Mark my words! Dantana can fuck right the hell off!

In the meantime, I'mma keep hope alive by shipping Brittana. You know- **forever**. From my grave. All that good stuff. So -Idina Menzel from RENT voice- cl-IIIIMB on-BOO-oo-OOARD! And never fear! I will **never** give up on Brittana, I will **never** abandon my ship, and I don't plan to stop writing fanfiction anytime in the next century!

This chapter gets a little angsty, so if you need a little Brittana fluff, check out my boo **crammit's** latest story from her Sweetest 'verse, **The Sweetest Sleepover**! Guaranteed to fulfill all of your adult!Brittana fluffy/smutty needs! :')

Thanks for reading! 8D

* * *

Commander Lopez is waiting for you in the abandoned barracks that night when you sneak in, and you're only a little surprised to find her sitting in just panties and a military tee shirt, her hair pulled back in a low, loose ponytail. Her eyes find yours when you enter, and the way she looks at you starts getting you hard instantly.

You swallow as you make your way to the bed, and fluidly, she reaches for your shorts, tugging them down and exposing you to her intense gaze. Warm hands slide over your bare thighs and then you feel her tongue flick out against your semi-hard dick. The wetness and smooth roughness of her tongue against the underside of your shaft makes you gasp and jerk your hips forward, and your dick swells to its full size, hardening further.

She pulls back with a smirk and guides you firmly but gently to lie on your back on the bed, and after some slight shuffling, you feel her wet, naked sex press against your stiff cock and you moan. Tenderly, her hand slides across your cheek, her thumb just barely stroking the band-aid on your temple. Her action makes her slide against you and your breath hitches. She's so _warm_. You can feel the heat radiating from her all over your cock, and your heartbeat quickens at the thought that she's about to let you be inside her again. Your blood surges in excitement and your hands instinctively slide to her bare thighs, holding her close, and then you hear her chuckle in your ear.

"Getting ahead of yourself, aren't you?"

You swallow. Have you fucked up? Were you not supposed to touch her? Shit, is she going to _punish_ you again-?

Her hips roll, and her wet center slides along the length of you, and you struggle to withhold a loud groan as she continues to grind against you. You can feel her hard clit against the head of your cock; you can feel the lips at her entrance around your shaft. The wetness that seeps out of her covers the soft skin of your dick, making her glide easily against you, stroking you with her sex. It feels amazing rubbing against her slick folds, but you can't help thinking about being inside her. You want her so bad. You think if you have sex with her again, it's going to _mean_ something, and you want it. You want it to mean something. If you never see her again, you want to at least connect with her on an intimate, emotional level- even if you never talk about it.

Her moans distract you. She whimpers each time her clit hits the sensitive underside of your cock, and you're embarrassed by how mentally riled up you're getting, by how badly you want to be inside her. The constant rolling of her hips, the wet grinding, all of it makes your orgasm build quickly and you can't believe you might actually _come_-

"Ugh- fuck-"

The Commander moans out loud, and your cock aches in response. You suck in a breath as you watch precum leak from the tip of it to land on your bare stomach, but Commander Lopez's pace only quickens, only grows more erratic. She's getting close, and the obvious signs make you ache that much more for release. You can just barely feel her entrance clenching at the base of your cock, and the sensation drives you insane, makes you remember how it felt when she came around you, squeezing you like a warm, velvet vice. You rut upwards, driving your cock against her clit, and feel her thighs begin to shake.

"I- I'm gonna come," the Commander gasps, and her low, raspy voice, so desperate, is the hottest thing you've ever heard. You're aching to be inside her, to be close to her. You're close to your release, yourself, and you want to come inside her tight heat; you want to bury yourself to the base and feel her clench around you while you let yourself go and spill your warm fluid inside her.

You can feel your head pressing against her tight entrance as she rocks. She sinks down just barely, and you want to cry in frustration. You know she's teasing you, and you're so close to begging her to let you be inside her. You know she'd like it. She likes being in control, and even though she's forcefully established her dominance over you in the past, this feels _different_. It feels more based from a place of affection rather than retaliation. It feels like playful control, and you're not conflicted about wanting it. You like her on top of you. You like the way she's making you feel. You like how she's handling you.

But you'd like her better if she was riding your dick instead of grinding on it.

You grip her hips harder and gently try to guide her to accept your cock, but then you hear her chuckle again through her heavy breaths.

"You want this pussy again, Pierce?"

"Yes," you gasp, feeling your cock throb at the way she says _pussy_.

Her voice is throaty as she purrs, "You're going to have to _earn_ it."

You swallow. You're not sure what that even means. You are sure, however, that you're not gonna last much longer. Or at all.

You whimper. "Fuck-"

And then you shoot all over your stomach. Spurts of white fluid cover your abs, and you feel yourself twitching against her sex. She's clenching hard, and the pulsing feeling against your soft skin makes your orgasm more intense, makes the tingles rip through your nerves, makes your lungs gasp for air as you shake beneath her.

"Oh, shit," Commander Lopez curses, and then you feel a flood of wetness cover your dick, feel her hips press harder against you as she comes. Her thighs tremble and her back arches. You stare up at her, in awe of her beauty. She looks like some kind of goddess perched on top of you, and you're sure you must be in some kind of orgasm-induced chemical stupor as you tremble beneath her, cock pulsing as your orgasm ebbs away.

You struggle to catch your breath for long moments, completely surprised by how strong your orgasm was just from friction and memory and desperate longing. You feel like you should clean up, but your limbs feel heavy and you can barely move. You shift against your pillow, shivering, and when the Commander shifts and climbs off of you, you freeze, waiting for her to leave silently like always.

She doesn't.

Instead, for the first time, she sits next to you on the bed while you recover, and you lick your lips, mustering up your courage. You internally debate with yourself about attempting to have a conversations with her- you don't want to scare her away. But she stayed, right? That means she wants to be near you, doesn't it? Maybe-

"Do you ever think about after the war?" you blurt before you can stop yourself. You bite your lip in anticipation.

"Is this your idea of pillow talk?" she snaps. But she doesn't move to leave. Deciding it's safe, you shrug, but remain silent. She studies you for a moment, her brown eyes tracing your face in the sliver of moonlight shining in through the window, before turning her sharp gaze away to stare at the wall across from your bed.

"No."

You wait to see if she will elaborate on why, and just when you think she won't, she speaks again. "This is my last class."

Her voice is empty and devoid of emotion, and it hurts you deeply to hear her sound so forlorn. You're not sure how to respond, so you answer, "I know."

"Then you know I'll be shipped out soon, and there won't _be_ an _after the war_."

Your mouth suddenly tastes bitter, your stomach tightening with cold dread. You want to think about her being deployed even less than you want to think about your _own_ impending deployment. But still, you're curious- "But what if you _survive_?"

Her tone grows harsh. "Who cares if I do?"

"I care," you blurt. You mentally kick yourself. She remains silent, and for a moment you wish you could take your words back, but then you decide you don't want to- you want her to know how you feel, that your feelings are real and genuine and you do actually care about her. You move your hand to touch hers. "Don't you have something to come home to? Some reason to-"

"What the fuck does it _matter_, Pierce?" she snaps angrily, sitting up and pulling her hand away from yours. Your heart plummets; you've said too much, you've ruined it, and you can practically feel her shutting you out, feel her walls slamming back up-

"It's better if I don't, because then I'm not leaving anything behind."

The thought of her being alone saddens you. Does she really not have _anyone_? Anything? "But-"

Her eyes cut into your own, vicious and brutal as she snaps, "Wake the fuck up, Pierce- you're _as good as dead_, yourself."

Your stomach clenches again, your entire body going cold at her words. You swallow the dry, bitter taste in your mouth, and reality comes crashing down on you. After everything she's put you through, she still sees you with a time clock on your head, ticking away your life. Is the war that brutal? Or are you really just not capable?

Either way- you don't stand a chance.

"You won't survive a second on that battlefield, Pierce," she says again, angrily, and each word is like a tiny knife stabbing you in your gut and in your heart. "You're going to _die_, and whatever you left behind- your parents, or your cat, or whatever the fuck- won't fucking matter."

You're surprised that she remembered you even had a cat- you think you might have mentioned the fact to her one time very briefly during one of your early KP punishments, when you still tried to talk to her- so the fact that she remembered that small, offhanded detail of your life hurts you in the best and worst way. You're so stunned that you can barely process or notice when she climbs off the bed, tugging on her discarded uniform pants, and storms out.

You sit on the bed in silence. Alone.

Her words repeat in your head and you feel the weight of your own mortality. It keeps you up the rest of the night.

* * *

The next morning, you breeze through drills as usual, even as tired as you are. Since Wilde showed you her coin, two days ago, you've noticed several girls from your company have been pulled aside for all-day specialized combat training. Berry had explained that, with the war, there wasn't enough time to send recruits to another long training class to learn a specific battle skill, so instead they were given crash-course cram training. They weren't learning to swim- they were being tossed into the water and made to teach themselves. It was dangerous and somewhat counterproductive, but the bigwigs needed people on the fields weeks ago. It makes you nervous that you could potentially be tossed out on the field without a clue as to how to do your job, so you hoped that when you were selected, you were given something easy, like gassing up the tanks or loading ammo onto jeeps or something.

Recruits were selected for skills based on their superiors' recommendations, and Wilde had been selected for aircraft bomb crew. The coin was a special token given upon completion of the training, and when Berry was called out after drills for her own special training, you begin to wonder if you'll ever be selected. That night during personal time, Berry informs you that she's been given the task of running the comm station, and you think it suits her. She excitedly shows you her coin with a huge grin- it has a microphone on it- and reassures you that you're going to get something awesome, too.

The Lieutenant wouldn't assign you to something awful, right?

You try not to worry about it, but the next day after drills, Chang, who'd been assigned as a courier, hands you an official letter. You're nervous as you stare down at the seal and you wonder if it contains your new assignment. When Chang leaves, you slip away to the barracks and open your letter.

You're outraged by what you find.

* * *

"This is bullshit!" You snarl as you slam the door to Commander Lopez's office open.

The Commander startles at your sudden and loud outburst, but quickly regains her composure and narrows her eyes. "Need I remind you of whom you are-"

You ignore her warning. You're seething. You shake the papers you have clutched in your fist at her. "What is this?" You demand through clenched teeth. Your grip on the papers tighten, and you feel them crumple in your hand. You're so angry and frustrated, you feel like you might cry. Already you can sense tears springing to the surface of your eyes, and you will them away.

You will not look weak.

"Pierce," Commander Lopez says calmly, her warning tone deadly, "I'm going to ask you one more time to remember whose presence you're in before I'm forced to take more severe action."

You swallow bitterly, and after a moment, you decide that fighting with her is counterproductive to your goal. You reluctantly move to stand at attention. You watch as the Commander watches you carefully, taking in your perfect form, your rigid posture, and the way your muscles are trembling with rage. You clench your jaw so hard you're afraid you might break it. You force yourself to take a deep, calming breath through your clenched teeth.

Finally, you find your firm, confident voice. "Permission to speak freely?"

"Denied."

You snap, breaking posture and pointing the papers at her. "Fuck you!" How _dare_-

The Commander slams her palm against her desk violently, moving to stand tall. The sound startles you but not into submission. "Who do you think you-"

"You discharged me!" You accuse angrily, cutting her off. You don't care. You're through playing this game. Your eyes are beginning to become blurry with tears, and your chest feels hollow, like someone ripped your heart out of it. "_How could you_?"

Commander Lopez balks for a moment, looking taken aback. You ignore the look in her eyes, you can't deal with it. Not not. Not now that she's gone and done this. You overheard her talking to the Captain, you're not stupid- but you never paused to consider what that might mean for the future.

She struggles for words, you can tell, but nothing she can say can remove the official notice stamped onto the papers in your fist. "Pierce-"

"Didn't I do everything you asked of me?" You demand. Your voice wavers as you choke out the words and it makes her pause, her eyebrows furrowing in concern as you stare into her eyes. "Wasn't I good enough?" Your words drop into a whisper, and you suck in a ragged breath, struggling to control your tears. You press a hand to your chest; it's aching. You can't breathe. Your eyes drop to the papers still in your hand and you try to swallow the huge lump in your throat. You're devastated. You feel sick. You feel like you might throw up, and you want to punch something, and you want to cry all at the same time. It's the worst feeling.

When you look back up, you see the Commander's expression has changed. Her jaw is clenched, and her eyes are cold, and you know she's shut you out.

You know it's over.

"Are you done?" she asks, her tone devoid of emotion, and you feel your anger disappear.

You feel nothing.

You shake your head slowly, trying to grasp anything about your situation, but you don't even feel like you're awake, like any of this is real. After a moment, you find your voice. "Yes."

Commander Lopez nods stiffly and picks up some papers from her desk, tapping them to straighten them. She avoids your eyes as she says, "Good. Pack your things and be ready for departure at 0500 tomorrow morning. Dismissed."

Silently, you turn on your heel and leave.

You hate that she's discharged you.

(You hate that part of you is relieved.)

* * *

**So the next- and final- chapter will be ~the chapter you've all been waiting for! Hopefully I'll have it up by tomorrow. :D Buuut we shall see. ;)**

**Also I'd like to take a moment to point out that a lot of you have stated that you want Brittana to fuck again… well, you can read about them fucking in literally every other g!p story in existence, hahah. I like to be different because reading (and writing) the same old shit gets boring, ya feels me?  
Be patient! The payoff is coming, literally, in the next chapter. ;D**

**Review if you feel like it, but if not, then don't! **

**See you next time, pals! **

**BRITTANA 4 LYFE!**

/

~for nothing but pure Brittana goodness on your dash, feel free to follow me on tumblr at **xandylytex**! Or, you know, _don't_- my tumblr is a creepy place. D:


	10. Santana

**A/N**: Hiiii darlings. Sorry for the delay. Seriously, though, it was only three days! Haha. :)

Thanks to everyone who read, reviewed, followed, whatever. You guys are da best!

This is a short chapter, but whatever. There will be one more chapter- the Epilogue! :D Yay!

Okay, well. Get to it.

* * *

Berry's shocked and angrier than you've ever seen her once you deliver the news. She threatens to go to Lieutenant Fabray for help, but you shake your head and plead with her, halting her from her impending tirade as you sadly fold up your underwear and pack it into your issued canvas bag.

You're so conflicted.

On the one hand, you're going to miss Berry. And the Lieutenant. You worry for them- there's a war, and there's an extremely good chance they will come up against conflict. You don't want any harm to befall them. Berry has become your best friend, and it feels nice. You've never had a best friend before, and even though she doesn't exactly understand a lot of the things you say, she's been friendly and helpful and you're not sure you would've made it as far as you have without her.

"I swear to you, Pierce, I'll fight this for you," Berry says passionately, her dark eyes bright with her inner fire. "Let me talk to Qui- ah, _the Lieutenant_. She might be able to go above Lopez and persuade the Captain to-"

"It's okay, Berry, really," you reassure sadly.

Because on the other hand, you really don't want to die.

And you especially don't want to kill anyone. Does that make you selfish?

"It's already official," you say, plucking the crumpled papers from their place on the bed and handing them to Berry. "There's no reversing it, and anyways, there isn't enough time before I leave."

Berry looks at the proffered papers and frowns. "It's honorable, at least…" she trails off for a moment and then her eyes widen. "Her name is Santana?"

"What?" you ask, but you already have a feeling you know who Berry is talking about.

"It says that under the recommendation of Santana Lopez, holding the rank of Commander, your contract-" you snort; as if you _willingly_ signed your life away- "with the USND is hereby and forthwith terminated. Wow. Her name is Santana. That's… really pretty, actually."

It's beautiful. And perfect. And _fuck_. Why does your heart hurt?

"It's a shame she's such a bitch," Berry says with a shrug, studying the papers absently.

You feel a quick spike of anger at Berry for saying that about Santana, even though you know it's true. Everyone thinks she's a bad person, but you know she's not. She just has a weird way of showing she cares, right? You've seen her be gentle with you. You know there's some kind of deeper meaning there. So _why_-

And then it hits you.

_She's keeping you safe._

Your nausea intensifies.

* * *

You sneak out of your assigned barracks one last time. You're not sure why- you don't really care all that much about keeping your secret. It's not like you'll ever see any of the girls in your company again. Except maybe Berry- if she survives. Maybe you secretly hope Commander Lopez will visit you… because even though you're still pissed at her, there's a huge part of you that still aches to see her one last time, and a slightly smaller part reinforcing the idea that the Commander is making her decisions to protect you.

It makes your heart ache even more.

You lie awake on your bed, staring up at the bunk above you, your stomach twisting itself in knots. And you wait.

And you wait.

You're starting to think she won't come, and that your idea of her protecting you because she has some _deeper feelings_ is just a delusion, just wishful thinking. Just a foolish dream that you desperately want- but then the door to your barracks opens.

Your heart pounds.

You turn to look, the moonlight just barely illuminating her figure. You watch, mouth dry, stomach fluttering, as she tugs her tee shirt over her head, revealing her bare chest. She's not wearing a bra, and you take in the sight of her perfect, full breasts. Her dark nipples are already stiff and the knowledge that she's already turned on- _for you_- makes your cock twitch with desire and groan low in your throat. Your heart pounds harder with hope and anticipation as she slips PT shorts down her toned, slim legs, and then she's standing before you, completely naked, her smooth, tan skin shining in the slivers of silver light from the moon shining in the windows.

You're rock hard.

You sit up, struggling to find your voice around the huge lump that's risen in your throat. When you speak, your voice is low and you hope she can't hear the aching desire in it.

"I thought you weren't-"

Fingertips press to your lips, silencing you, and you look up reverently into loving, dark eyes. "Don't," she breathes, and you lick your lips. You hiss when she tugs your shorts down with one hand, the other grasping your thick shaft and stroking it slowly. You struggle to just breathe, heart hammering, threatening to burst with how intense the energy exchange is between you and Commander Lopez.

You swallow hard as you watch her straddle you, and before you can even get excited or process what's happening, she quickly sinks down onto you, taking all of you inside her.

You gasp at all the warmth and fall back against the pillow. You can't believe you're inside her again, like you've been dreaming of being for weeks. You feel her hands press to your chest, using it for support as she lifts her lips, pulling up, her inner walls gripping you tightly and making your mouth drop open. You stare up at her, finding her eyes, and struggle to breathe.

You don't care if she's using you. You don't care if she's getting one last fuck before you leave. You're going to let yourself pretend that there's more to this- even if there isn't.

Tomorrow morning, it won't matter anyway.

It's silent, the only noise the sound of her heavy breathing, your gasps of pleasure as she moves, and the sound of your hard cock parting her slick flesh. You love how soft and wet she is inside, and the way her tight heat swallows every inch of your cock. You love the way she squeezes and spasms around your thick cock, how you can feel her walls pulsing and massaging you, and it's incredible. She feels so good; for a second you wonder if you were made for each other before you scold yourself for thinking such a crazy thought.

You rest your hands on her hips and pull her down into your thrusts, watching her ride you, watching her impale herself on your cock over and over. You can feel her getting wetter, coating you, and you drive your hips up, wanting to make her feel as good as possible. Her thighs tremble where they bracket your hips, and you squeeze at her hips, smoothing your hand over her soft skin.

Her hand on your cheek makes you snap your eyes up, and you stare into her brown eyes, which are softer than you've ever seen them. The intensity with which she watches you makes your cock throb inside her, and the movement causes shocks of pleasure to shoot through you. She rocks her hips, chasing her release, and her hand cups your cheek. You want to kiss her, but you can't. Not like this. So instead, without breaking the eye contact, you turn your head slightly to press your lips to her palm.

Her entire body shudders, and you hear her breath hitch. You know she's close. You're close, too. Her inner walls are squeezing you harder, and you can feel the coil in your stomach winding tighter and tighter, and you're ready to explode. You struggle to hold back, but then she speaks, low and raspy.

"I know you know my name, Pierce," she pants above you, rolling her hips hard, trembling. "_Say it_."

"L-Lopez-" you gasp, feeling her clench.

"My _name_, Pierce, my _real name_."

"_Santana_-" you gasp, your orgasm taking you. You buck your hips up, burying your cock completely, and empty yourself inside her. Warm fluid erupts from the end of your penis, and you grip her hips tightly as you keep coming. She leans down, and for a second you think she's going to kiss you-

But then she buries her face in the crook of your neck, wrapping her arms around you and pressing her naked torso to yours. Her hips rock hard on your still-twitching dick, and you feel her moan something that _sounds_ like your name, but you're not sure because you can't hear her over the sound of your own heart pounding.

You breathe raggedly for several long moments, enjoying the feeling of holding her close, enjoying the intimacy of your slowly-softening penis still inside her wet, sticky heat. You can feel a puddle of your mixed releases forming on your hips, but you don't care. You stroke a hand down her slightly-sweaty back and swallow the sudden lump in your throat.

You feel overwhelmed with emotion. You don't want to go.

You're worried this will be the last time you ever see her.

When she sits up, you search desperately for something to say. You hope she kisses you. Your eyes find hers. She looks at you for a long time, a myriad of emotions playing on her face.

She stares at you.

She doesn't kiss you.

And silently, she leaves.

You sit on the bed, feeling as if you might cry, and wondering if you dreamt the whole thing.

* * *

When 0500 rolls around and you're standing at the transport post waiting for your ride to arrive which will take you to the train station, you're surprised when Commander Lopez is the one who pulls up in the Hummer. You place your canvas bag in the back seat and climb in the passenger seat. The ride to the station is silent and your mind races with a thousand things to say, but you can't focus on just one. You want to say so many things. You have so many questions. You want to scream. You want to thank her. You want to beg her not to go. You have no idea how to form any of those wants into words.

When you finally reach the station, Commander Lopez pulls the Hummer up to the curb and leaves it parked while you get your bag. She reaches into her pocket and pulls out your train ticket, and you stand on the platform, facing her, still not sure what to say.

And then she speaks.

"I know you were drafted," she admits, her voice sounding small, and in this moment, she's not Commander Lopez to you. She's _Santana._ She's an ordinary, scared, vulnerable girl, who's opening up to you, and it makes your heart break. "I read your file," she continues. "You were drafted, which means you didn't sign up by choice. You never wanted this." She pauses to make eye contact, a small, genuine smile tugging at her lips. "Yet _still_ you excelled. You can outrun, outfight and outgun every other girl in that company, but- your _heart_ isn't in it. It never will be. I can't force it. And I- I don't _want_ to, either. I don't want to break that part of you."

She takes a deep, shuddering breath, and you feel your throat closing up. "You don't belong in the military, Pierce," she says firmly, straightening her posture. "And maybe I could be selfish- maybe I could keep you miserable, say you're too good, too _strong_, too much of an asset to our cause to let you go- but I choose for you to be _happy_ instead."

_But I wasn't miserable,_ you think, trying to find the courage to blurt the words, but you can't find the voice. You can't find the conviction.

You don't want to lie.

Santana looks at you, and it's different from any other time she's looked at you. You swallow, watching as she reaches up to cup your cheek, and when she swipes her thumb beneath your eyes, you realize you're crying.

Shakily, you thank her. You try to smile.

And then, still cupping your cheek, Santana rolls up on her tip toes and kisses you.

You feel your knees buckle, your legs weakening. You're pretty sure you sway a little at the feeling of her plump lips finally, finally, finally pressing sweetly against yours. It's everything you'd dreamed it would be, and more, and you eagerly kiss back.

And when you feel her starting to pull back, you lean forward, trying to hold onto the feeling of her lips as long as possible. You've waited so long, you don't want it to be over so soon-

You're completely surprised when you feel her wrap her arms around your neck and pull you close. She tilts her head, deepening the kiss, opening her mouth and inviting you to invade it with your tongue. You don't hesitate, sliding your arms tightly around her waist and crushing her body to yours as you kiss desperately.

You're lost in her scent, in her warmth, in her lips, in her smooth, velvet tongue. You're lost in the feel of her arms around you, and the way she presses her body against you, as if trying to get closer. You're lost in the sounds of her small moans, and her fingers in your hair-

And then the train whistle blows and shatters your reality.

Santana steps back, clearing her throat. She deters her gaze to the train, running her hands over the front of her uniform to straighten it, even though it looks perfect as usual.

You want to say so many things, but-

"Good luck, Pierce," she says quietly, and the train whistles blows again.

You swallow your words, pick up your bag and make your way to the train. You pause to toss one last look over your shoulder, and your eyes meet.

It's the last time you think you'll ever see her.

You listen to your heart break over and over the entire train ride home.

* * *

**Aww…. Poor Britt! :'( **

**Don't worry, guys! EPILOGUE, remember?! ;)**

**Review if you have some feels, but just remember- BRITTANA FOREVER! :D**

**AND NOW A WORD FROM ~OFFICER SAFETY:**

**YOOOO. There's only so many things I can tell you about sex with dicks, homiez. Wear a muhfuggin condom. **

**Yup. That's it.**

**STAY SAFE AND PLAY SAFE! :D**


	11. Home

**A/N:** Hello everyone! As promised, here is the final chapter of the story. :')

I know it's short, but it's just to wrap up the story for our sweet little Brittana hearts.

Need more fluff in your life? My boo **crammit** just posted another smutty one-shot from her Sweetest 'verse series, **The Sweetest Bedtime Story**. So. Make that happen. You won't regret it!

This chapter is dedicated to my lovely friend and yours, **ducksticks**. Because that's how I roll. Thanks, buddy! ;)

Enjoy; and stay tuned AFTER the story, for a word about upcoming fics! :D

* * *

It's been four months.

It's been four months, and life has gone back to- well, not quite _normal_, but as normal as it can be.

It's been four months, and you haven't heard a single word from Commander Lopez.

Your chest feels like it's got a huge gaping hole in it. It's a dull sort of ache that follows you around, and you can't quite figure out _why_. You know you had feelings for her, but you're not heartbroken, exactly. You're _scared- _scared that her silence is indicative of the worst possible scenario in your brain. You don't want to acknowledge that scenario.

You don't want to admit that she might be dead.

And what if she is? What if she was gunned down on the battlefield by _rebels_? You would never even know. It's not like you were listed as her next of kin to be notified, and you don't even know where she was from, so it's not like you can check the local papers for her death. The thought makes you sad, makes you wonder for probably the hundredth time if the Commander even had a next of kin. She'd told you she had nothing waiting for her, and that no one would care if she was killed in the war-

No one but _you_.

But still, you'd heard no word. You thought about asking Berry in a letter- at least a million times- but you don't want to raise any unnecessary questions that might jeopardize the Commander's position, if she is, in fact, still alive.

So you wait.

And worry.

And watch the days turn into weeks, and the weeks turn into months, until you're not even sure that Commander Lopez was even _real_. Maybe you dreamed the softness in her eyes, the affection in her touch. Maybe you imagined the way her body felt against you, the way she looked in the moonlight. The way her lips tasted, and the way she clung to you, desperate.

No. No way.

The thing is- you can still remember her face at the train station. The way she looked at you, it's burned into your memory forever. It haunts your dreams, shadows your thoughts, and there's not a day that goes by where you don't wonder where she is, what she's doing, and if she's alive.

It hurts to think about. You just hope that she's all right.

Even if you never hear from her again.

* * *

_Dear Pierce,_  
_I must apologize for still calling you by your last name, but it feels rather unusual to use your first name considering I never did while we were in training. Regardless, I hope this letter finds you well and adjusting to your life as a civilian._  
_I am alive and well, and I write to you with good news. As you may have already heard about in nearly every media outlet the war has finally ended, though I won't be leaving my post any time soon. Those heathens we were fighting have finally come to their senses and what a relief it is to finally see an end to this craziness. Honestly I just want to use a decent latrine again. If you had any idea the kind of conditions I've been subjected to, you would cry on my behalf! Simply and utterly deplorable._  
_Have you received correspondence from the Lieutenant? She's still at her post on the training base, and she's taken over as drill commander now that Lopez has been deployed from there. What an honor! I was quite worried about her well-being, but now I'm content just knowing that she is safe at her post and doing well for herself. We write each other often and she has become a dear friend of mine. It's important to keep contacts, Pierce, you never know when you might need them!_  
_Anyways, enough of that. I look forward to receiving your letter. I will be stationed at my post for the next two months, so you may write to the address at the bottom of the page. Keep out of trouble and please do give my regards to your family. :)_  
_Sincerely,_  
_Rachel Berry_

You smile at the hand-drawn star next to Berry's name and briefly scan over the address scrawled in the corner of the paper. Her comm post is definitely out in the wilderness, but with the war officially declared over- at least on paper- you feel a lot better about her safety and survival chances. You'd definitely worried for her over the course of the letters she'd been sending, but receiving her latest one reassured you that the worst is over.

It's been six months and the war has ended, the rebels finally surrendering after brilliantly executed, brutal war tactics Big Brother kept secret, which was just fine with you. You honestly don't want to know. There's still a lot to do, of course- pockets of rebellions still need to be quashed, the aftermath needs to be assessed, the rebuilding of the razed cities, the political clean-up, the government restructuring and assimilation of the _wilds_ back into society. The troops aren't coming home any time soon.

You wonder-

You shake your head. You can't think about that.

Instead your thoughts turn to Berry. You're glad she's okay, and that she's keeping in contact with Lieutenant Fabray, signifying her safety, too.

You wonder-

You sigh. It's no use.

You can't stop thinking about Commander Lopez.

You haven't ever felt this lonely. You were fine being lonely before, but not now. Not now that you've had a best friend and lost her to the military. Not now that you've found the woman of your dreams.

Not now that you've _been with_ the woman of your dreams. It's all you can think about when you close your eyes. You inhale and remember the way she smells, the warmth of her skin. You wrap your hand around your shaft and remember her hand, the firm smoothness of her strokes. You remember her wet mouth, her chocolate coffee eyes, her tight, velvet heat. You remember all of it, and as you bring yourself to a shuddering release, you squeeze your eyes shut and choke back your emotions.

You miss her.

But you have to accept reality. You don't know for sure if she's dead. You don't know for sure if she's alive. You don't know for sure that you'll ever hear from her.

So you wait.

And you wonder.

* * *

Eight months, and you've given up on ever knowing Commander Lopez's fate. You'd met a nice boy named Sam at the grocery store last week, and he'd asked you out. You think maybe it's time to move on- it's not healthy being so hung up on a person you haven't seen or heard from in eight months- a person who might be dead. Right? It's like wanting a ghost, and that's stupid.

Yet something in your gut is telling you not to give up, tellin you it doesn't feel right. You wish it would go away. You need to move on with your life. You can't keep seeing her face or her pretty eyes or her perfect smile or remembering the first time you heard her laugh.

Your throat tightens and you swallow.

It's been eight months.

She's not coming home.

* * *

You're in the living room when you hear a sharp knock on the door. Your stomach sinks and you swallow. You don't get visitors out here- at least, not ones that knock like that. You freeze and stare at the door, hoping you imagined it. You fear the worst. What if Berry was killed? What if-

"Britt, honey, can you get the door?" Your mother calls from the kitchen, and you force yourself to stand. You make your way to the door, and, with your hand shaking slightly, you twist the handle and tug it open.

All the air leaves your lungs. Your knees feel weak.

Santana Lopez is standing on your doorstep.

Your eyes trace over her perfect face, the way her dark hair is swept back in a tight bun, the way her eyes dart around the porch. She's wearing her impeccable dress blues, wringing her hands in front of her nervously. She looks up as you step into the doorway, and your eyes meet.

Your heart pounds. You think it might break your ribs. You don't know how you're standing. Your stomach feels like you went on too many rides at the State Fair. You can't believe your own eyes.

At the sight of you, she sweeps her hat from her head and holds it in front of her, fidgeting. You've never seen her look so nervous. You've never felt so relieved. Your heart feels like it might burst open with how happy you are to see her face, to feel her presence on your porch. You vaguely wonder how she found you, but you mostly don't care. You're just happy.

You stand there staring into her soft, melt-y eyes, and you suppose you should say something, but then she clears her throat.

"Pierce," she starts softly, and the sound of her voice has you practically swooning, you missed it so much. "You must be surprised to see me. I guess you must wonder why I never wrote to you." She takes a deep, shuddering breath. "I _wanted_ to." Your heart flutters. "I wanted to," she repeats, "but I told myself that it's better if I didn't leave anything behind."

You remember the conversation you'd had with her the night before your discharge, and it all makes sense. Of course Santana didn't want to get attached to anything. She knew she was being deployed. She knew she was going to die. But she _didn't-_

"Sometime over the course of my duty, I forgot why I was fighting the war," Santana says softly, reaching forward with her left hand to absently stroke a loose thread on your shirt sleeve. "I chose to fight so that when it was over, I'd have somewhere safe to come home to." You watch as she swallows, and her voice wavers as she confesses, "But I don't. I've never had a home. And I was- okay with that. I accepted it. I don't _need_ a home." She stares at you, and you feel your stomach twisting, fearing her words. You see her throat move as she swallows again. "But when I look at the sky, I see the color of your eyes. When I think of coming home, I see your smile. When I see my future, it has _you_ in it. I was deployed, and all I could think about- something I realized is that- _you're_ the only thing- the _only person-_ I wanted to come home to."

Your throat and chest feel tight. You struggle to form words against the tears threatening to well up in your eyes. You can see that Santana's eyes are watery, you can see the desperate look on her face. You search her brown eyes; her lips tremble slightly. She sucks in a breath and gathers her composure.

"Say something, Pierce. Please."

"Brittany," you say automatically.

Her eyebrows furrow. "Huh?"

You smile. She returns it, slow and understanding. And as you reach for her warm hand, taking it firmly in your own and tangling your fingers with hers, you know she _gets_ _it_ as you repeat,

"My name is Brittany."

* * *

**So there you have it! Sweet, sweet closure. I miiiight write a sexy chapter where they reconnect… but I haven't decided yet. I guess we shall have to see, huh?**

**Okay, so! A few things:**

**THANK YOU, everyone who read, reviewed, favorited or followed this story or any other story from the Summer of Smut (**_**SUMOSMU**_**)! Your support is what makes me want to keep writing and sharing my stories with you, and I'm sure my other author friends feel the same way. So thank you so much on behalf of the entire SUMOSMU team! You guys are awesome!**

**And speaking of the team, I'd like to thank Lighthouse (**_**NegativeSpaces**_**), Jelly (**_**jellymankelly**_**), **_**crammit**_**, **_**LoneGambit**_**, and **_**ishIheard2day**_** for contributing to the Summer of Smut! I'd also like to thank everyone who didn't write, but who gave prompts, requests, and suggestions for stories. You guys are the best, really. I appreciate all of you! **

**On that note, I'd like to mention that all of the above-mentioned authors and myself, plus even more awesome people, are putting together a little something-something Smutfest for Halloween! So stay tuned for that later this month! :D**

**Many of you have expressed disappointment that the Summer of Smut is now over; but as I just mentioned, there will be smut for Halloween, and I'm also planning to do a weeklong Solstice of Smut later this year! I still have a lot of prompts to fill, and my Brittana smut-writing days are far from over! ;)**

**In the meantime, though, now that this story is over, I will be embarking on an entirely new adventure and will be posting the first chapter of my new story, **_**Savage!**_**, by next week, and YES, it's Pirate!Brittana. It will be a long, chaptered story and I think it'll be fun! So follow me, on here or on tumblr, if you want the notifications, or just keep your little oranges peeled for when it drops next week. :D**

**Between now and then, though, NSG one-shot is on the way! **

**Thanks again for reading! **

**And remember- BRITTANA FOREVER!**

**See you guys soon!**


	12. Yours

**A/N:** Hello. You guys didn't think I was going to leave you without the smut, did you? ;) COME ON. I GOTS you!

So here is the epilogue to the epilogue- the Epilogue Squared, if you will. I hope you enjoy it.

This is the last and final chapter of my one and only adventure into G!p. Thanks, as always, for all the support. Thanks for reading, thanks for reviewing, thanks for all of it. You guys are the greatest!

Also, OH MY FUCK are you guys reading **Battlesong** by my darling Lighthouse **(NegativeSpaces)?** If you aren't, you should be. I want to be her when I grow up.

Happy wanking!

* * *

You're nervous.

It's been two weeks since Santana appeared back in your life- two weeks that you've spent getting to know her outside of her occupation.

Well- _former_ occupation. She'd reached her end of service contract two years prior, but had been forced to stay in because of the war. However, with the immediate threat over, she'd been free to leave the service or sign a new contract, and she'd chosen to take her leave and start the life she'd mentioned when she'd shown up on your doorstep.

It had been the best two weeks of your life.

And the most frustrating, which surprised you, because you didn't think anything could get more frustrating than your time in service. Boy, were you wrong. You and Santana had decided to take things slow, but eight months apart had not exactly helped your self-control, and you're dying to be with her again. You'd been on a date together almost every night in the past two weeks, and every night, the date ended the same way- a heated make-out session in your dad's truck before she departed for the night to her room (which she was renting out from Mrs. Hagberg, the kindly old lady on the edge of town) and leaving you to make the drive back to your parents' house, your cock hard and throbbing the whole way, and finish yourself off quickly with your hand.

For all that you desire her physically, though, you'd really enjoyed getting to know Santana as a person. She'd showed you how incredibly thoughtful and sweet she could be, taking you to places she knew you'd enjoy, seeing movies she'd never see on her own, and bringing you flowers on every date. She'd really won your heart, and her snarky comments always made you laugh. She could be silly, and even though you sometimes said some strange things, whereas most people, even Berry, would look at you strangely, you could see her scrunch her eyebrows and actually attempt to work out what you meant in her mind. It took her a few moments sometimes, but she always got you, and you'd never felt more special and normal at the same time.

The simple act of getting to hold her hand in public while you strolled through the mall was enough to make your heart pound in adoration. You're definitely falling for her. The way she smiles lights up an entire room. Her brown eyes are always soft whenever she looks at you. When she hugs you good night, her body fits against yours perfectly, and her mouth-

You groan as you flip through channels on your TV, lying back on your bed. You can't even think about that. Her kiss is enough to set your entire body on fire, nevermind when she touches you-

You feel a twitch in your shorts and you bite your lip. You've been sexually frustrated ever since you've been dating Santana. You're eager to express your new feelings. You're eager to be with Santana, and not Commander Lopez. You're eager to feel what Santana feels for you, and you know she wants it, too. The way she presses against you when you kiss her, or the way her fingers rake through your hair, or the way she moans in your mouth all tell you that she's as desperate to have you as you are to have her.

You think you're ready. You've waited long enough. When she comes over tonight, you're going to talk to her about it.

With another sigh, you reluctantly reach your hand into your shorts to grab your hard dick, feeling reassured with the knowledge that this will hopefully be the last time you'll have to relieve yourself like this.

* * *

You're painfully hard, your thoughts are gone, and that's when you realize, _you waited too long_.

You rock your hips tightly against Santana's body beneath you, searching for some friction through your loose jeans as she runs her hands up your back. Her tongue teases yours in your mouth, and you can't hold in your groan of desire as she wraps her leg around yours to keep you pressed close. You're on top of her, your hips between her legs, grinding against her fully clothed like some horny teenager. Although, the way your cock is throbbing, you kind of feel like a horny teenager, anyways. You rut your hips against her desperately as she drags her nails down your back, and even through your shirt, the sensation makes you gasp in her mouth.

You definitely waited too long to talk to her. Talking is the last thing on your mind.

Her hands squeeze your ass, and you instinctively thrust your hips down again. Your hardness rubs against her center through your clothes and she moans, tightening her grip on you. You can feel yourself reaching the point of no return, but you can't stop. Not with the way she's sucking on your bottom lip and squeezing your ass. Not with the way she's moaning. And definitely not with the way her hands are working your belt buckle open-

"Shit," you gasp, pulling back and trying to remind yourself to slow down.

"I want you _so bad_, Britt," she moans in your ear, and her warm breath along your skin makes you shudder, makes your cock throb. You want her, too. You want to be inside her, and when you feel her hand grasp your cock and stroke it a few times, you realize you really need to stop now or you're definitely not going to. Your hips jerk forward and you practically moan in relief. It's been so long since she's touched you, _really_ touched you. She's felt you through your jeans before, but having her hand on you, warm, soft skin to warm, soft skin, is incredible and almost too much to handle.

"Wait," you pant, lifting up slightly, regretfully. Her hand doesn't stop squeezing gently at your shaft, and you feel your orgasm building. You want nothing more than to tug her pants down and bury yourself inside her, but you know you can't.

"Please," she breathes before she cranes up to kiss you, and the way her lips take yours, the way her tongue flicks out to caress your own, makes you forget what you were about to say and almost forget that you can't give in to her request. She twists her hand, sending shocks of pleasure shooting through you, and you drop your head to her shoulder for a moment, struggling to concentrate. "I want you inside me."

Your cock jerks in her hand at her words, and you curse that she's so hot and so tempting and so willing. You're about to throw _slow_ out the window, but then you hear your dad's voice, calling to your mom down the hall, and you remember why you wanted to wait.

You don't want to have sex with Santana _here_.

You push up onto your knees, lifting off of her warm body, and you miss the feel of her immediately.

"Britt," Santana says softly, her face showing concern. "What-"

You kiss her, willing your pounding heart to slow, but she hasn't let go of your throbbing cock, and it's a struggle to control yourself.

"I don't- I don't want to do this here," you say shakily, catching her gaze and swallowing as her hand pumps you slowly, driving you crazy.

"Okay," she says cautiously, waiting for you to continue.

"I want you," you reassure, "just- not _here_. Can I take you o-out somewhere?"

Her smile is grateful and adoring and it gives you a warm feeling in your chest, it makes your heart thump joyously. Her brown eyes are affectionate and you smile in response, happy that you made her happy with your words.

"Of course you can," she says, reaching up with her free hand to cup your cheek. She leans up to kiss you, and you let her, trembling lightly at the arousal still pounding through your body, made worse by the fact that her hand hasn't released you. When she pulls back, her smile transforms into something a lot more playful, and the sight makes your stomach flutter in a good way. Without warning, she speeds up the tempo of her hand, stroking you faster, and you choke on a moan as you drop your gaze to watch her pumping you.

"S-San," you breathe, and she shushes you gently.

Pressing a kiss to your cheek, she lingers there to whisper, "Can I finish you? You're so hard, Britt…"

You swallow the huge lump in your throat and nod, your breath coming in heavy, ragged gasps as her hand massages you. She sits up slightly, and, still on your knees, you rest your forehead on the shelf of her shoulder, keeping your eyes focused on her hand moving up and down the length of you, squeezing gently. When clear fluid begins to drip from the head of your dick, she rubs her palm over the slit before rubbing the liquid along your shaft, and you hiss at the stimulation and the slick feeling of her hand working you quickly.

Your orgasm continues to build, and you can feel your muscles tightening in preparation. Your stomach quivers, and you grasp a handful of sheets next to her hip, clenching them as you feel yourself on the edge.

"I- I'm gonna come," you pant breathlessly, sucking in air. Santana moans but doesn't halt her pace, and after a few more heavenly pumps of your shaft, you watch your release cover her stomach, spurts of white liquid spilling onto her skin. You groan lowly as your orgasm rips through you, your hard cock pulsing in Santana's hand as she continues to pump you through it. You struggle to breathe as Santana milks the last few drops of fluid from your slowly-softening cock, the drops landing in a puddle on her stomach.

You swallow and bite your lip. You want to touch her in return, but she shakes her head and you decide you'll make sure to take care of her on your date tomorrow night. Quickly, you fetch her a warm, wet towel and clean her up, and she gives you a satisfied smile and a long, deep kiss that almost gets you hard again. After, she leaves, stating that she doesn't want to run the risk of getting you worked up again, and you smirk at her.

Your eyes meet, and you feel your heart quicken with the unspoken promise of tomorrow night.

After you walk her to her car and kiss her goodnight, you watch her drive away and can't help but thank the powers of the universe that you were drafted.

* * *

This is it.

You've taken the necessary preparations, and now here you are, driving Santana out to your favorite spot by the lake. It's pitch black, but you love being so far out from the city. It makes the stars brighter, and as you slowly drive down the gravel road through the trees to the spot you had in mind, you feel your stomach tightening with nerves and anticipation.

You steal a glance at Santana, who's relaxing in the passenger seat of the truck, nodding her head to the music. She looks beautiful in tight jeans and a tighter plaid button-up shirt, and you don't think you'll ever get tired of seeing her out of uniform.

"I feel like we're in a _Deliverance_ movie," she teases. "You're not taking me out to the woods to kill me, are you? Because I've gotta say, I'm totally armed."

You smirk at her playfully challenging tone, and meet her brown eyes briefly. "I'll let you know if I hear any banjos."

Her laugh makes you smile wider. You can feel your heart beat faster in response, and you marvel at the effect she has on you from such a simple gesture. As you maneuver the truck into the perfect position by the lake, you lick your lips and keep your fingers crossed that the night continues to go smoothly. Dinner had been a success, and you hope that Santana enjoys the next part as much as she did the first part.

"Hey," she says softly as you pull the keys out of the ignition, and you pause, meeting her eyes again. She smiles softly at you, and then she leans forward to kiss you, her lips just barely grazing yours. It's sweet, but still makes you tingle, and when she pulls back, she reaches up to finger a strand of your loose blonde hair. "Thank you."

You return her smile, pressing one last lingering peck to her lips before exiting the truck. You walk around and drop the tailgate as Santana comes up next to you, and you reach for the bag you'd packed. Carefully, you lay out the blankets and the pillow you'd brought, and then you carefully help Santana up into the bed of the truck before pulling her down to sit against you.

Silently, you hold her in your arms and just breathe in her scent. You'd brought wine coolers, but you don't really feel like drinking or dulling the moment in any way. You want to remember every second of your first time with Santana. You revel in the sound of her peaceful breathing, and watch her face as she gazes up at the clear sky, staring at the brightly-lit stars.

"Do you remember your navigation training?" she asks with a playful nudge at your shoulder and a cocked eyebrow, and you nod. You kiss her cheek, pulling her closer, and point up at the sky.

"There's Polaris."

She falls quiet, and you find her brown eyes. She's staring at you with completely obvious adoration, and the sight of so much pride and affection makes your stomach tense. You swallow, feeling slightly overwhelmed at the emotions pouring off of Santana, and then she's leaning forward to kiss you, her hands cupping your cheeks.

You don't hesitate to tangle fingers in her dark hair, pulling her even closer to press against you, and you love the way she feels. Her body is warm, even in the cool night air, and her lips are soft and moist as she kisses you slowly.

It doesn't take long for the kiss to become heated, however, and moments later, your tongue is caressing hers in her mouth, and you're biting her plump lower lip and sucking while she moans. Your arms tighten around her, and at her insistence, you lay back against the blankets, turning on your side and guiding her down to lie in front of you. Her breasts rub against yours as she breathes, and even the slight pressure makes your nipples hard. You moan in Santana's mouth as her grip on your hair grows rougher, and when her free hand slips around your waist and to your lower back to push your hips forward, you feel yourself getting hard against her thigh.

She feels it, too, and she teases you by rubbing her thigh between your legs. The friction makes you suck in a slow, deep breath, and Santana's lips move to your neck. You think you might go crazy as her tongue darts out to lick at your skin. Your cock is hardening rapidly, a result of Santana's actions combined with your excitement and anticipation.

In the next instant, Santana rolls onto her back, tugging you on top of her, and your thoughts race to process everything that's happening. You're on top, you're in control, and just the idea that she surrendered it to you, that she submitted to you, is enough to get your dick throbbing. You don't waste any time unbuttoning her shirt, but you don't rush- you keep your movements steady but loving. You want Santana to know how you feel, that this is different, that it's _more_. You don't want it to be like all the other times.

So you carefully peel her shirt apart, pausing to admire the way her full breasts look in her bra, and press a kiss to her chest just above her heart. You hear her breath hitch, but you don't stop as you tug her bra cup down to suck her hard nipple into your mouth. You swirl your tongue around it, loving the little whimpers your action causes, and slip your hand between her thighs to rub at her center through her jeans.

Her hips respond, rolling upwards, and she gasps. You smile against her flesh and kiss across her chest to her other nipple, showing it the same care as the first. You trace fingertips across her toned stomach, loving the feel of her smooth, tan skin. She feels so good, and you sigh, your thoughts beginning to go fuzzy as your arousal continues to climb.

You feel her hands on your belt and then she's pushing your jeans off your ass, replacing them with her hands. She squeezes at your ass, pulling your hips forward so that your hard dick rubs against her center through your boxer briefs, and you groan. Her warm hands slide under your shirt, and she pushes the garment off, then reaches for your bra. She cups your breasts once they're free, and her palms slide against your hard nipples, sending shocks of pleasure through your body and straight to your rock-hard cock.

She unfastens her own jeans and then wiggles out of them while you finish taking off the rest of your clothes, and then you're both naked, tracing hungry eyes over each other's bare bodies. The way her skin looks under the starlight makes your heart pound even harder, and as your eyes fall to her glistening center, you feel your cock swell almost painfully.

"You're beautiful," she breathes before she cups your neck and pulls you into a deep kiss, and your stomach flutters at the compliment. When your warm, naked body presses to hers, your breath hitches. You've never been completely naked with her, and the sensation of all your skin touching is better than you'd ever imagined.

It's a warm night, and she's even warmer, and she looks so good under the stars like this that you can't help but shudder with pleasure just from being close to her. You can practically feel her heart pounding in her chest, and you know she can feel yours. As your eyes meet hers again, you feel as if you might cry- your dream is finally coming true. How long had you craved this intimacy with her? And now- you have it. You have her. And it's perfect.

She's perfect.

And she's _yours._

You kiss her, and she opens her legs, spreading them and inviting you to move between them. Your cock slides through her wetness as you shift, and you both moan at the contact.

"Please," she pants when the kiss breaks, and the look in her eyes tells you that she can't stand to wait anymore. She wants you. Your cock throbs.

You swallow and nod quickly, trying to calm down a little. She rubs your lower back with one hand, and reaches for you with her left, guiding you to her entrance. When the head of your cock presses to her soft, wet folds, you hold your breath. She wraps her legs around you, and you push yourself deeper, trembling at the way she takes every inch of you and squeezes tightly on all sides, surrounding you completely in her warmth. When you're completely inside her, you slide your arms under her shoulders and enjoy the moment of being so close, so connected with her. She touches your cheek, craning her neck to kiss you, and as you begin to move your hips, her fingers push your hair back from your forehead.

You're in heaven. She's so tight and soft inside, and the way she grips you as you move feels better than you ever thought it could- with _anyone_. Her whimpers and moans only make your cock swell further, and you're so swollen and sensitive that you feel as if you're going to erupt any second. Your orgasm builds quickly as you fuck Santana slowly, driving your cock into her and letting her feel every inch. You rotate your hips, rubbing against her walls, and feel the way her body shudders beneath you at the pleasure.

She hasn't broken eye contact with you, and her eyes shine with the reflection of the stars above you. The effect makes your chest feel tight, and you're suddenly right at the edge, especially when you feel her clench hard around you and gasp. You hold her tighter, closer, your strokes growing shorter inside her as you chase your release and simultaneously attempt to take her to her own.

She tells you she's close, and you struggle to keep yourself from coming as you pound into her, angling your hips and hitting her sweet spot. Her thighs tense, and she grips the back of your neck almost painfully tight. Her eyes lock on yours, and even though you can feel a sheen of sweat forming on your skin, you don't stop the movement of your hips.

Finally, you feel her grow wetter, and her grip on your cock tightens considerably. Her hips buck up and she cries your name, and the sound of it, combined with her back arching and her inner walls spasming around your cock, sends you flying over the edge. You shoot your release deep inside her, rutting erratically as your orgasm takes over your body. You can feel your cock twitching as you continue to come, and you wonder if you'll ever stop shaking as your muscles tense and release repeatedly. Pleasure sparks through your nerves, and then her lips are on yours, her arms holding you close as your hammering heartbeat finally begins to slow down.

You nuzzle your face into her neck, steadying your breaths and listening to her pulse and the now-familiar rhythm of her breathing as she strokes fingers through your damp hair. You press a kiss to her bare shoulder and sigh with content.

"I love you, Britt," she says softly, and you freeze. You're unsure if you heard that right. Did she say- "I'm in love with you," she repeats. She kisses your forehead. "And I have been for a long time." You swallow, feeling that lump in your throat returning, but she continues, "You don't have to say it back. You haven't known me- Santana- as long as I've known you. But even when you were just Pierce, you stayed true to yourself. And I love that about you. I love _you_."

You kiss her shoulder again before lifting your head to catch her eyes. You stare at her for a moment before kissing her softly, and when you pull back, you say, "I love you, too. I may not have known Santana- but I saw her in Commander Lopez. You could've chosen to let me die, but you didn't. You chose to save me. I'm alive because you cared enough."

"I'm sorry for treating you so poorly," she says, and you bite your lip. "My methods, while cruel, always work- except on those that don't have the capacity for war."

"Like me." You smile.

She nods, smiling. "It helps me recognize and separate them from the rest. It doesn't happen often."

"So how many other girls have you discharged over the years?"

"Only three. I lost a few before I realized they couldn't be changed. That I couldn't force them to disregard their nature." She looks seriously at you, and your heart skips a beat. "I couldn't bear losing _you_."

"You never have to," you reassure, kissing her again. You settle down against her, and after a moment, you pull another blanket up to cover your naked bodies. She strokes up and down your back, humming lazily, and you trace absent circles on her stomach as you allow yourself to drift into a half-unconscious state.

You're almost asleep when she says, "Britt?" And at your answer, she continues, "This is going to sound horrible, but I'm really glad you were drafted."

You chuckle sleepily and kiss her shoulder again. "Me, too."

And as you slip into sleep, you can hear the tired laugh in her voice as she says, "You served well."

* * *

**THE END! :')**

**So? What did you think?**

**Review if you feel like it, but if not, that's okay. **

**I'll catch you on my next adventure, which will hopefully be next week! :D**

**Keep your chins up, kids. Brittana forever! **


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